Child of The Storm
by Pretty Boys
Summary: The winds & tides have changed. Jack, Will, & the Pearl find themselves thrown into an olympic sized adventure that threatens the lives of every man at sea. They are left with little choice. Save a soul. Change a future. Or watch the world crumble. AUish
1. Calm Before the Storm

**Authors note: **This story is a collabortation between two authors. This is our first Pirates of the Caribbean fanfiction as well as the first we had ever written together. Some character's, characterizations, ect may not be exact. And we apologies if that happens. We tried our best. Please note also we tried to incorperate as must accurate Pirate slang and terminology as possible. If you do not understand something please feel free to ask. Currently this is a romance free story. However depending on how it plays out and input from readers that may change in the future. While being free from romance there are still adult images and theme's and we caution readers to heed the ratings. All comments and critisms are very much appreciated. Thank you, and we hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer **: We do not claim, claim to own or hold any rights to Pirates of the Caribbean, the characters therein, or anything else affiliated. Those are the sole proptery of Disney, and Disney corperations. We are making no profit from this story. It is simply a piece of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Random names, places, and non-cannon characters as well as the plot and story itself however are our own and we would ask you please do not take them.

**Summary : **There are many powers at work in the world. Many things that can tip the delicate balance and plunge the world into chaos.For a Pirate such annoyances are never considered.But when the balance is broken and the world teeters on the brink, what is a Pirate to do? The winds and tides have changed. Jack & Will find themselves thrown into an olympic sized adventure that threatens the lives of every man at sea. They are left with little choice. Save a soul. Change a future. Or watch the world crumble.

* * *

**"Child of the Storm"**

_**Chapter 0ne : "The Calm Before the Storm"**_

The air was still.

Deathly still.

T''was the true sailors curse.

Not even the weakest breeze ruffled the pristine black sails or pulled at tusseled sweat dampened locks. The sun sat high in the afternoon sky beating down on the stalled ship and her weary crew like a magnifying glass upon insects. Burning, scorching. Light reflecting off the frighteningly still waters below her drying keel like a sirens call to a dehydrated man. The masts and twine creaked from the hot dry strain of the elements, as taut and angry as the crew themselves.

Tempers were as high as the heat and more.

The mighty ship had been abandoned by Poseidon three weeks out to sea from her latest pillage. Not a single breeze passing their way in more days then any cared to count. The men were restless and sluggish all at once. Most on the brink of heat madness. The fresh water reserves were running low, perhaps a weeks worth left maybe two. If the winds did not pick up soon, the _Pearl_ may again loose her crew to a sick sort of death.

A bejeweled hand cupped above kohl lined eyes. The wiry form of Jack Sparrow, captain of the usually proud vessel, lean and arched gazed up into the neigh cloudless sky, pearls of sweat beading and marking sun scorched cheeks as unusually darkened eyes surveyed the damage above. There was no relief in sight. The horizon was hot and grim and the mysteriously mad captain was left to wonder how his lady fair and equally eccentric crew would brave this backwards storm. A hot dry breath passed chapped lips as the hand fell settling again on the soft wind polished wood of the helm. Jack's gaze swayed like a drunkard from the sky to plummet across the deck of the still ship, his ship. Picking out each form of every member of his crew on deck. Gibbs had found a shaded niche by the mast, hugging his canteen of rum to his burley chest like a life line. Cotton and his annoyingly ever present parrot along with Kursor were manning a line thrown overboard as several men cooled in the crystal ocean below. Perhaps not the brightest idea. But Jack wasn't about to stop them. Annamaria was grumbling about one thing or another perched by the deck stairs her coal black eyes watching some far off mirage down passed the horizon. Her blouse untied, and dark African chocolate skin laid bare to the punishment of the sun.

The rest of his men were lounging lazily about. Drugged or perhaps consumed by heat and thirst.

There was one in particular though he did not see. Nor had he heard or sensed a peep of complaint from since the wind had been whisked from their sails so abruptly. Dark cocoa eyes scanned the vessel from stem to stern the best he could from his current vantage point, the familiar head of tempting curly locks no where in sight. Young William Turner, the object of his thoughts and hungry gaze, seemed a curiosity to the curiously strange captain. He alone, beside Jack himself of course, had not seemed to be affected by the lack of cool air or life giving breeze. He did not seem slowed or hampered in the slightest. Hauling half the crews weight almost effortlessly upon his broad young shoulders. In fact, Jack could have sworn on more then one occasion he could see those glistening chocolate curls wafting in a soft bewitched breeze as the young man tied off a line or climbed a mast as the rest of the air around them remained still.

Perhaps Will was simply used to the heat. Being a former blacksmith and all. And Jack chalked the imagined breeze up to an over active libido long since deprived of attentions. _Of course_ the blacksmith wasn't bewitched. Possessing wind in his pockets and moonbeams in his boots. He had indeed seen stranger things in his time. But this was _Will _after all. Simple foolish nonsense, it was.

Looping a thick bit of rope over a pin on the helm out of habit more then necessity the half sober captain swaggered towards a large barrel of covered water, positioned under a bit of shade to keep the temperature down as much as possible. Hat perched cockeyed on his proud bebangled head, a tan hand found a small cloth dipping it in the liquid and wiping the refreshing drought across fever tinged flesh. Jack was of course a man of the sea. He took her, bads and all. He was used to the conditions. But even he would not turn down a nice cooling wash occasionally.

The stillness of the afternoon was unsettled suddenly. A barrel tipped and caused a ruckus from somewhere near the stern of the boat. Wood splintering on wood. The occurrence was not so uncommon. A crewman must have been careless and left it unsecured. It was the noises after however that caused the hair on the back of Jack's neck to rise.

A scream, mad and frightened all at once rang from the same direction, startling several sweaty pirates from their lazy perches.

_"Monster!"_

"_Demon! Kill it!"_

The terrified cries were drowned out by the sudden crack and shot of a pistol the noise frightfully loud in the still air ringing across the crystal waters like a sea of foreboding. Jack dropped the rag and feet set at a sprint towards the sound, tailed by several of his men. _"Demon! Barbossa! 'E's back!" _the hysterical man screamed, a second crack following the first accompanied by the sound of something hitting the deck. Hard.

_"Die! Die Barbossa!"_

"Jack! Jack! Tibs' gone mad!"

_That voice. Will. Bloody hell._

Sparrows pace sped as the frantic screams continued, growing louder and wilder as they neared the apparrent fray_. "I'll kill ye!" _Skidding around the captains cabin brushing a loose rope out of his path Jack's heart skipped a beat in his tight chest as eyes surveyed what laid before him. Tibs, the young pirate Will had warned of had indeed gone mad. He was flailing and wrestling with two other deck hands, both older and far grayer then he, lost in the throws of the Davies. One pistol in hand and a long knife in the other, the blade of which was stained with a familiar color. William was tossed against the floor a grimace across his handsome features as he struggled to move out from under foot. And Jack paled to find the smoking pistol, and mad man's eyes, locked on the young Turner.

"Tis the fever Jack!" the former blacksmith called, his doe eyes spotting the older pirate.

"Gibbs, Tiny, get the pistol. Peetie, Greet the knife. Get him under control!" the captain ordered with an air of authority his feet heading him straight towards the downed younger man, and unexpectedly into the line of fire. "_No. Don't stop me. Don't!"_ Once more a booming deafening crack rang out, ricocheting across the deck and up into the rigging and tall twin masts. Jack didn't so much as flinch as jump in surprise when the burning pellot grazed passed his arm ripping flesh and cloth alike. The whole crew seemed to pause in trepidation for a moment. "Bugger. I loved this coat." He mused mornfully, reaching a bejeweled hand to finger the slice in the large warn sleeve, seeming completely ignorant of the fact his flesh had just been slashed. _"Let me Go!" _As if cued by theinsane wail all hands swiftly returned to their struggles and efforts to down the wild man.

The back of the boat was a mass of scurrying and calamaty, all available hands wrestling the mad and frightened pirate of his weapons and remaining wits.

The pistol clattered to the wooden deck a moment later with a high pitched keen of loss from its owner, wild blood shot eyes stretched to their limits as the heat maddened sailor thrashed in his captors hands. "No! No! Don't stop me! Let me kill it!"

"Tibs! Ye blighter Barbossa's dead!" One of the elder pirates tried to reason, hands grasping and groping for the remaining weapon.

Before long the crazed man was subdued and weaponless, screaming bloody murder in his fellow crew mates hands. Vehement eyes locked scornfully on the form of William as the Captan stepped before him. "Get him outta the heat. Keep him down ther'. Lash him em up if need be." Jack ordered, following the nod from Gibbs before four of the men manhandled the wailing pirate below deck. The sounds of his struggles soon smothered by the heavy levels of thick wood beneath Sparrows feet.

"What happened?" Annamaria asked, retrieving the forgotten pistol, examining the piece before stuffing the muzzle into her belt, claiming the item as hers lest the man find brains enough to try and reclaim it. Then again that would not mark a man with brains, would it? "Anyone hurt?" She questioned, surveying the gathered men, sometimes uncaring seeming eyes, now concerned in their own special way, scrutinizing every detail. "Aye..." Jack mumbled mornfully, examining the tear in his jacket again with oddly saddened eyes, exuding melodramatic grief as if a dear friend had been killed.

Anna rolled her own obsidian orbs. "Anyone _really_ hurt?"

An old salt, grey at the temples and long in the mouth moved towards a fellow deck hand, a small gash in his forearm and a scowl to his eyes, grumbling under his rank breath. Aside from the cut, an abrasion to Hawk eye, the resident look out's temple, and a few other scattered bruises all seemed well again.

Will lay still, half crumpled upon the hot deck, long errant locks curling whipped across his sweaty face as he caught his breath. "He was checking the lines, then.. just went mad. Started screaming about Barbossa." he informed, a lean slender hand pressed to his side as he made no move to stand, the touch almost lost in the folds of his billowy shirt. Jacks previously distracted brain twitched and somewhere in the deceptively muttled clarity he registered that something was wrong. "Will? Lad ye alright?" He questioned, knee's folding and lowering the notorious man next to his companion eyeing his still form with knowing apprehension.

There was a pregnant pause.

Then the hand the younger man had kept still, shifted.

A swallow.

And Jack saw red.

Dizzy orbs raised from beneath a dark crest of lashes, a drunk look to them as they met the dreaded pirates gaze. The hand Will moved was covered in blood, his lower abdomen likewise splattered in the grim paint. A rich blackened red hole marking the entrance of a bullet. "J... Jack..." a shaky breath passed pale lips, the surge of adrenaline self preservation instilled in him draining swiftly from his form. The lanky blacksmiths eyes rolled up into his head and his arm went out from under him nearly toppling his form like a rag doll to the deck; the Captain's arms, and catty reflexes the only thing keeping him from a cheek full of splinters.

"Bugger. Gibbs!"

Cradling the younger man to him carefully, Jack barked out several orders. One of the pirates near by lowered and pressed a bunched sash to the boys bleeding wound, several men scurrying below deck to fetch the elder pirate and the local 'surgeon' per _request. _

Almost the instant Wills eyes had closed and darkness swallowed him a sudden practically howling wind whipped at the black sails and the ship lurched beneath ill prepared feet despite the lowered anchor. The sound, an almost mournful keen to anyone with wits enough about them to notice. Of course not many had said wits. Save for the Captain of the proud and broody vessel, dark locks whipping around his face as curious eyes gazed into the noon day sky, eyeing the sudden appearance of several angry looking clouds with suspicion.

Running about the boat like mad men, each crewman was mindful of a different mission to complete.

"Weigh anchor! Take in fore and aft sails! Secure the rigging and mark heading toward the nearest port!"

"Aye!"

The sea rolled with renewed vigor and the order to raise anchor was loosed, a heading set for inhabited land as several men hurriedly removed Williams unconscious body to Jack's cabin. Tending the wound to the best of the ships current ability.

The sky cracked and electricity bit the air within moments, a metallic tang in the sailors mouths as hands worked with practiced ease. Clouds mottled the horizon and the blue sea above.

Then the powers that be mourned and the sky broke.

And impossible rain fell on the little vessel.

* * *

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Message in a Bottle

**Authors note: **This story is a collabortation between two authors. This is our first Pirates of the Caribbean fanfiction as well as the first we had ever written together. This piece was started before DMC was released, so this story has been forced to become somewhat of an AU. Some character's, characterizations, ect may not be exact. And we apologies if that happens. We tried our best. Please note also we tried to incorperate as must accurate Pirate slang and terminology as possible. If you do not understand something please feel free to ask. Currently this is a romance free story. However depending on how it plays out and input from readers that may change in the future. While being free from romance there are still adult images and theme's and we caution readers to heed the ratings. All comments and critisms are very much appreciated. Thank you, and we hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer **: We do not claim, claim to own or hold any rights to Pirates of the Caribbean, the characters therein, or anything else affiliated. Those are the sole proptery of Disney, and Disney corperations. We are making no profit from this story. It is simply a piece of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Random names, places, and non-cannon characters as well as the plot and story itself however are our own and we would ask you please do not take them.

**Summary : **There are many powers at work in the world. Many things that can tip the delicate balance and plunge the world into chaos.For a Pirate such annoyances are never considered.But when the balance is broken and the world teeters on the brink, what is a Pirate to do? The winds and tides have changed. Jack & Will find themselves thrown into an olympic sized adventure that threatens the lives of every man at sea. They are left with little choice. Save a soul. Change a future. Or watch the world crumble.

* * *

"Child of the Storm"

_**Chapter Two : "Message in a Bottle"**_

****

"Sail ho!" A call rang out from the crows nest, a severely tanned hand pointing to the far off horizon, looking glass in hand.

"Captain!" The young pirate cupped fingers around his mouth repeating his cry through the raging storm and rain, desperately clinging to the mizzenmast and lead line tied securely about his waist as the boat rocked without mercy. "Gibbs! Anna! Ship on the horizon!" Hawkeye bellowed, relieved as the chocolate skinned vixen registered his words. Turning from her position at the helm she squinted against the punishing water falling in cascades from the sky gaze partially shielded by a drown and flopping hat brim; trying to spot the dot of white sails. This was NOT what they needed right now. With most of their sails taken in, Captain and first mate occupied and or out of commission, and a storm bordering on a hurricane trying to rip them apart a battle was the_ last _thing the Pearl could tolerate.

All pirates were greedy by nature, but even they weren't fool hearty enough to attempt a pillage in so foul of weather. It was not wise to risk dropping sails in this kind of torrent either, but if they wanted to avoid a possible battle they would have to risk it to out run the trailing clipper. They could not simply reply on the hope that the other boat had yet to spot them.

"What colors be she flyin'!" Annamaria replied her voice high and shrill through the turbulent waters, hurling the wheel in an eastward direction away from the fast approaching vessel. Grabbing a passing sailors arm, she ordered. "Fetch the Captain, we got trouble."

The lookout adjusted the looking glass, trying to pull the new ship into focus and peer through the salty sheets and gale attacking him from his high teetering vantage point. A battered scarf whipped in the winds, slapping darkened cheeks and battling scruffy greasy locks for domination in obscuring the man's eyes. It was hard to make out the little vessel as it was let alone its flag and colors. The sun had all but vanished and the sea rolled and tossed the Black Pearl like so many scraps of wood, rocking her down to her very core as the winds and waves punished her deck and hull. Vaguely through the mists a flash of blue and red caught the young man's eyes.

"British sir... She's Royal navy!" Hawk called with a sinking feeling.

"Bloody hell. Load cannons! Muskets and pistols at the ready! Drop all canvas! If she turns prepare to fire!" Annamaria barked out orders left and right, hurling the wheel again, trying to compensate for the crushing waves as the ship was thrown back and forth. "Is she following!" The deck of the infamous pirate ship broke out into a scurry and flurry of motion, sailors running left and right in a mad dash to fulfill orders. Several hands rushed into the bowls of the ship, fetching muskets and dry powder, while others climbed the ratlines and main braces into the delicate web work of rope, wood and canvas to loose the curled sails. "Aye, she's turnin'!" The man replied, training the eyeglass again upon the naval vessel as she turned and marked a heading directly for the Pearl. There was no doubt the pirate ship had indeed been spotted and was now, or perhaps all along, the enemy boats target.

"Make quick ye lubbers! Get those shots 'ligned!"

The billow of black spread fast over head, the sound of soggy canvases and futtock shrouds whipping and snapping in the torrent of hail and waters surprisingly loud against their ears. Metal clicked and scrapped as the cannons were tied, positioned and prepared a powder monkey and gunner manning each large barreled gun.

A peculiar sight danced through the obscuring rain, causing the young lookout to pause in wonder.

"Sir! She.. She's running up the white flag!"

"What?... "

* * *

"Blast is all to the depths! Jack can't ye do anything 'bout this infernal rocking?" The irritated surgeon snapped as the needle he had been trying to feed through his patients ripped flesh missed, instead scrapping into a toned and cold belly.

Again.

Will was still unconscious, and blessedly so, spread near bare and soaked atop Jack borrowed bed. His flesh had turned an ill faint blue and blood still flowed from the puncture in his side. Though thankfully considerably less then earlier. The graying surgeon had managed to dig the bullet out without too much trouble, and thoroughly cleanse the torn and soiled skin. The hard part now seemed to be stitching the deep wound closed. The Captain had refrained him from cauterizing the injury, and while stitching was not that common nor useful a practice, he obeyed. These conditions while poor for the current task were even worse if not neigh impossible for the alternative. "Right mate. Let me just run out an' tell Poseidon to get that great bloody trident out ta his arse and grant us fair sea's." Jack mumbled distractedly from the opposite corner of his cabin. "He'd like that..." Was added as an after thought, spoken quietly under his breath.

Carefully he riffled through the healers tools and supplies, picking at the gauze wrappings before the man's apprentice smacked his hand away. "Stay out ta the'e." Spurned by the young lad Sparrow stepped back raising his hands in surrender with a swagger and jingle of assorted trinkets.

"Good then. Ye do that. Ye might prove useful for once." The old man grumbled, carefully pulling the thrice miss placed needle back out through skewered skin by the tail end of the thick cat gut strings. Several small cuts and punctures dotted the young first mates stomach and hip from all the missed stitches the man had attempted due to the savagely swaying ship. Beads and thin trails of scarlet life's blood smearing the once perfect skin.

The doctor adjusted his perversely large monocle, using the piece as a magnifying glass and counter agent for his poor eye sight, pulling the now free needle and thread taught before lowering again to the wound for another go. He met resistance at first as the offensively thick needle struggled through a large chunk of skin before he managed to shove the tip into the other side of the wound then back out, yanking in semi soft short tugs to tighten the line before securing the wire in odd looking knots.

The ship lurched again, surprisingly hard this time just as the surgeon leaned in for the next stitch, resulting in the huge needle stabbing through his own finger. "Bleedin' hell!"

The man hissed, dropping his tools with the outcry as blood immediately swelled to the surface. Pausing his task he dunked his thumb in a near by cup of rum disinfecting the wound with a grumble before quickly wrapping the digit.

Jack looked up curiously at the scream but didn't comment, instead turning his attention to his momentarily forgotten torn coat. Eyeing the hole, the cut and frayed edges of which were now stained red, the pirate made an odd face, shrugging out of the article in one smooth motion. Examining the damage more closely now Jack frowned, noting for the first time the sting in his arm as he mourned the wound to his favorite jacket. Slinging the discarded item across the back of his chair he tossed his hat atop the desk procuring a large clean cloth from the doctors supplies before the boy could shoe him away again. Tearing off a long strip he ripped the hole in his shirt wider, before searching out a bottle of rum to sterilize the injury.

Dark eyes searched his cabin for his favorite drink, spotting the only remaining bottle of liquor next to and belonging to the busily working surgeon.

Gaze darting between the young boy helping the old salt and the surgeon, Jack bit his tongue in concentration, hands raising as he tip toed nonchalantly behind the two distracted men. Feet moving stealthily, he moved in a smooth quiet motion, for once in his life, careful not to jingle or creak a rotting floor board. Sparrow grinned as his fingers curled around the cool neck of the bottle, swiftly snatching it up and hurrying back to his navigation's desk before either men could steal the drink back. Triumphantly Jack beamed gold teeth flashing in the dim candle light as he grasped the cork with his K-nines, pulling it free with a pop before spitting out the spongy material.

Glancing at the wound once again in his bicep, Jack paused, then shrugged throwing back his head and gulped down half the bottle in one swig, a healthy hue of red coloring his tan cheeks from the liquor. Satisfied he set down the bottle splashing a little rum on his fingers before smearing the graze. Picking up the forgotten scrap of white material he was in the middle of wrapping the wound, one corner in his teeth the other grasped in his hand as the doors to the cabin suddenly slammed open.

Jumping in surprise he glanced up at the drenched and panting pirate. "Wha ith thit?" He mumbled around the fabric, paused in mid motion.

"Cap'n, a ship sir! On our tail." The man sputtered, his scraggly beard dripping dirty water onto Jack's stolen rugs. Sparrows lip twitched in irritation. Both at the news and the man.

Quickly tying off the haphazard bandage he grabbed his pistol, shoving the item into the waist of his pants before hurrying out into the storm.

Plodding up the stairs rather noisily, trained eyes noticed the aimed and ready cannons and the full sails overhead. Squinting chocolate orbs, Jack eyed the ocean all about them searching out the telltale signs of a foreign ship. "Captain, tis a British ship of the fleet! Coming up on our larboard side." Anna informed the man loudly as he hurried to the helm, turning in the informed direction. A hand raised to protect his kohl smeared gaze, the other reaching possessively to the wooden wheel of his ship.

Sure enough there she was.

A tall proud clipper ship, a sixty gunner complete with pristine white sails and little men in silly red coats.

"Load cannons and prepare to fire as soon as she's in range!" Jack barked out, pushing the woman aside and taking the helm, booted feet widely planted for support against the wind. "Aye sir! Load the cannons!" The crew repeated as they hurried to reciprocate the command. "Captain!" Annamaria grasped Jacks billowing sleeve, leaning close to speak into his ear trying not to shout.

"Jack!"

Pausing he turned enough to eye her with a quizzical gaze, turning the wheel in the process as a hard wave tossed them hard South.

"She's waving the white flag sir." The African cimaroon informed, urgently, a confused look behind her pitch eyes. Jack's brow knit beneath his signature red bandana, turning from his post to again eye the approaching vessel, squinting to spy said flag. He hesitated for a moment weighing his options and course of action swiftly in his backwards brain. "Drop anchor." The eccentric pirate ordered, holding fast to the helm as she was jerked about in the violent unforgiving sea, returning his attention to the ocean ahead. "Jack!" Anna's eyes widened in surprise. Dropping anchor in a storm like this was a fatal mistake by most means.

Jack met her with a serious look. "Drop. Anchor."

"A.. Aye.. Drop anchor!" She barked out to the rest of the crew, exchanging apprehensive looks with Gibbs as he climbed the sloping drenched stairs to the sterncastle. "What the devil is goin' on?" The vixen of a woman just shook her head, hurrying down the poop deck to the capstan, releasing the anchor into the churning waters. The vessel lurched as the huge metal weight hit bottom, and caught, throwing several men from their feet and skidding across the slick deck.

Jack could all but hear the surgeon cursing his name to the seven circles of hell and back. He smirked.

"Muskets at the ready! Prepare for anything! Do NOT fire unless I give the signal!" The captain ordered, rocking on unsteady feet as the ship continued to lurch and rock dangerously with the waves. The British vessel approached uncomfortably fast and Jack could all but taste the tension in the air mixed with the salty tang of rain. "Hold!" Anna called out, snatching a musket from a nearby gunner, leveling it upon her arm and aimed at the nearing boat. Despite the order not to shoot, she'd be damned if she would be caught unawares.

""Sparrow!"

Jack looked up at the calling of his name, a prideful look upon his features as he turned to face the nearing ship. Releasing the wheel he left Cotton to watch the tiller and neared the edge of his boat, wrapping a hand in the rigging for security the other atop the binnacle as he gazed into the darkness. Under the rain and gales it was only the ships sails and lamps that made it even remotely visible. A man with a white wig and red coat stood atop the forecastle of the Naval ship a large copper calling horn in hand and raised to the sailors mouth.

"Sparrow! Peace! We come with a message for William Turner!" The naval officer called into the darkness, an obviously nervous quiver to his voice. The soldier must have been young, and never faced with the aspect of Pirates before this meeting.

Jack's eyebrow raised in interest. "Oh really... What's yer message!" He replied the last into the wind, calling back without the help of the enhancing tool. The man did not seem to hear his reply. "May we send a man over!" The youth called again, the words ringing oddly through the winds and waters. Sparrow tapped his bejeweled fingers against the wood of his proud vessel, lips puckered oddly and head cocked back ignoring the punishing rain as he contemplated. "Cap'n?" Gibbs questioned, moving to his place next to the unpredictable pirate, glancing jittery between his superior and the ship across the way. It was easily noticed that the Naval vessel was heavily armed and certainly held at the ready should the pirate ship decide to forgo talking and simply take her down as an easy target. The tension was almost tangible between the two ships. The rocking and roaring sea adding to the unease. Jack's eyes narrowed before he turned from his perch. "Let 'im aboard."

"Captain?" Gibbs nearly jumped at the order, glancing to the waiting galleon before returning to his captain. "Aye sir." He swallowed and complied at the look he received for his nervousness. Turning to the caller he repeated the order.

Soon a small cockboat was rowing unsteadily between the two ships the poor sailor in charge of delivering the message drenched to the bone and shaking. Wether from fear or cold was uncertain. "Lower ladder!" the bo'sun ordered as the little long boat neared. The ropes slapped against the side of the Pearl and a man with a musket manned the line. The British soldier threw his docking rope to a waiting deckhand before ascending the ladder with trepidation. The young blue eyed youth noted the cocked gun immediately and inched closer to the edge of the pirate vessel. "I have a message for a Mr. Turner." He repeated the earlier news, a satchel slung at his hip a hand atop it protectively.

"Ah lad!" Jack called out almost cheerily, descending the castle stairs. Swaggering arrogantly, the pirate exuded an air of darkness as he neared the shaking young man, his intention to further intimidate the poor lad. Thumb hooked in his sash purposefully close to his waiting pistol he smirked snarkily. Though through the rain Jack made the mistake of not paying attention to where his feet landed and soon found himself tripped and face first atop a port hole, boot thudding loudly on the coaming. Hurriedly he scurried to his feet, turning lost for a moment as his gun had slid free of his pants disappearing over the side of the ship. "Bugger..." Squatting down he leaned arround the mizzenmast, kohl colored eyes squinting and searching the shadowed area's of the ship for his lost gun.

"Cap'n?" Kursor cleared his throat, reminding the absent minded man of their visitor.

Jacks blinked and near sprang to his feet, giving up the search and snapped his attention to the red coat twitching nervously next to the sheave hole; watching as the youth swallowed. The grin once again returned to his tanned lips. Swaying the rest of the way to the intruder Jack eyed him up and down, the bangles in his hair glinting in the lamp light and jingling as he leaned uncomfortably close to the shorter man's face.

"What's yer business boy?" He slurred in a deep tone, watching as the boy recoiled slightly from his rank rum soaked breath. "I.. I have a message for a M-Mr. Turner." The limey replied, fingers tightening about the leather satchel nervously, wide aquamarine eyes darting about the collected scallywags and all the armed and ready weapons. "Aye ye said that. What's yer message?" The odd pirate swayed back, shifting his booted feet to a wide gated stance intimidating the lad further as he peered almost menacingly down his nose.

"I am supposed to tell Turner, no other."

"Mr. Turner is... indisposed currently. You will give _me_ yer message or get back in yer little boat and row home... While ye can." The last was added simply as a scare tactic. The sadist in Jack liked watching the poor boy squirm in badly hidden terror. The sailor was positively quaking now, eyes larger then sand dollars.

"I.. uhn.."

Hurriedly the boy opened the sack at his side, shaking hands riffling through the contents before producing a leather bound stack of letters. He was hesitant to offer them to the strange man before him however. "I... regret to inform, the Governor of Port Royal has passed on. It was his last order these be delivered to one, M-Mister William Turner who he assumed would be aboard the Black Pearl."

"He assumed right... So that old stuffed shirt finally kicked it ay?" Jack smirked, scratching at his jaw in amusement before snatching the leather package before the boy could mewl a word of protest. Though the young man's eyes hardened if only a little at the flippant way the pirate addressed the deceased Governor. "You will address him with proper respect sir!" The boy bristled with anger, his chest puffing out in an affronted display of faulty courage. The pirates eyebrow raised and several of the crew laughed.

"Oh will I now?..." Before the eye could detect Jack stole a pistol from a nearby sailors belt cocking and pointing the gun at the lads forehead. "Is that all a yer message boy?"

The naval officer swallowed and nodded before stopping in mid motion digging out another item from his bag. "Thi... This is for him as well.." He offered the item shakily. It was a small box, velvet covered and square in shape, no bigger then the lads palm. Jack took the item and tucked it into his pocket.

"That all?"

"Y.. yes sir." He spoke with a sinking feeling in his gut, eyes going cross eyed for a moment as he studied the barrel of the pistol leveled at his forehead before clenching them closed, awaiting the shot that would end his life. Nodding Sparrow smacked the boys hat into his face and turned, tucking the stolen weapon into his sash. "Good. Get off me boat... Oh and tell yer Captain.. If he so much as thinks of following we'll sink her. " With that he left without another word on the matter.

"Mr. Gibbs, weigh anchor and resume heading at all haste!"

"Aye!"

The boy jumped, peeking one eye open and after the retreating man as he hesitantly straightened his affronted tricorn. Hearing the orders and quiet threat the officer hurriedly scurried over the side of the ship and back into his little waiting dingy, startled and worried of being stranded on the notorious pirates ship. Within moments the anchor was hauled aboard and the rocking Pearl was once more cutting a swath through the turbulent waters, leaving the naval vessel and life boat swiftly behind. "Was that completely necessary Cap'n?" Gibbs mumbled as Jack passed on his way to his quarters. The captain smirked, gracing the older man with the pirates equivalent of a wink, one hand settling on the handle of the stolen pistol. "Got ta keep me reputation don't I?" Gibbs laughed and nodded.

"Aye."

Content with himself Jack sashayed across the deck, swaying easily with the waves instead of against them. "Now, whatter ye hidin' hm?." Jack mused, examining the soggy contents in his hands as he made his way back to his cabin.

Throwing open the doors he plopped down at his desk, tossing the velveteen box and leather bound stack atop the wood. Eyeing the sealed letters addressed to his first mate Jack pried at the leather ties, unfolding the package. His curiosity was piqued as what looked like letters of Marque unfolded bound tightly about a smaller stack of simple hand written and sealed letters. Interesting. Separating the personal letters from the letters of the king, Jack nonchalantly slipped the signed letters of marque into his sash tucking them away. For safe keeping of course. His attentions then turned to the box, instead of the neatly labeled personal letters. Opening the item curiously he found a small folded note and a sparkling gold ring inside. Pirate eyes brightened at the glitter of swag and fingers tempted to snatch moved to take the jeweled bobble.

"Cap'n?"

Jack jumped and slammed the box closed. "I didn't touch it!" Wide eyes turned spotting the surgeon, who was eyeing him with an amused and knowing look. Jack cleared his throat and set the box and letters into a drawer turning to face the man, straightening his rumpled and soaked clothing.

"I done all I can fer now. Just let him rest." The surgeon seemed the order the last, eyeing Jack with a sharp knowing look only an elder seemed capable of pervaying, before turning with a nod and left. His apprentice followed hurriedly, arms full of his masters tools and supplies. Sparrow watched the man go before a quizzical look marred his features glancing back and forth from his occupied bed and the now closed door.

"And where am I s'possed to sleep?"

* * *

_Hello?_

All about him was gray.

_Where am I?_

A soft strangely warm gray.

_Is anyone there?_

Perhaps like a blanket his deceased mother had once knit him as a child, yet significantly bigger. Enfolding his body, smothering but not choking. _Hello?_ It was a steady presence, and anything beyond its veil of muted color was vague, far away and unreal. All he knew was warmth, numbness, and darkened gray.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he had a body. He knew he had toes, and fingers, eyes and ears. But he could not seem to feel them. Nor attach senses to the oddly disconnected receptors. _What's going on? _There was simply nothing but the strange grey and odd warmth. And disjointed thoughts. Will slowly became aware of his own mind again. Thoughts and memories fragmented and shattered before his minds eye sluggishly trying to reassmble into some form of clarity. He was alone. Surrounded by a quiet nothing. No floor, no ceiling, no body. Absolutely nothing substantial to speak of.

And somehow, this was not right. That much he knew.

He did not know where he was, why he was here, nor how he had come to be in this place. But he knew he was not meant to reside there. He had a reality to return to. A home. Friends perhaps. A life. The problem was, for the life of him, Will did not know how to return to it. The young man could not recall the events that led to his strange imprisonment in the murky color of nothingness. He could not remember the year, the place he came from, not even his name. For that matter, for all he knew he could very well be dead. He simply could not remember. The possibility was likely, he could have somehow been killed. It was not that far fetched. But from what he could remember of his life, this should not be heaven. Nor hell for that matter. He had been taught at an early age, the ways of religion and the hereafter. And this resembled nothing he had ever heard spoken of before.

It was strange... and lonely.

Offensively lonely.

Will felt the urge to call out. To plead for someone, anyone. _Something_ to fill the void of aloneness. But he did not know how. He could not seem to force his unreal mouth to move. To form words or sounds. So he cried out with his mind. _Hello? Is anyone there? Hello?_

**I am here child.**

The sudden voice startled the young man. It was booming, authorative, yet somehow still soft and caring... Almost... familiar... But somehow not. He could not distinct the voice. It was neither male, nor female. Nor someone he could recall knowing in his lost reality. A light appeared above him suddenly, bright, blinding white with hints of silver and red. It was beautiful and yet painful to look into. Yet he could not look away. _Hello?_

**I am here.**

It was louder, yet softer, strong and warm. It caressed his senses like silk and honey. Sweet and comforting. Vaguely he felt chills run down a spine he could not seem to place. And warm gentle arms enfold his awareness. **You are safe.**

_Who are you? Wh.. Where am I? _

**Shhh You are safe child. Rest well... I will allow no harm to come to you.**

_But.. who are you?_

**Someone... **

**Who is coming for you...**

_Wh... what?_

A chilling laugh filled the void of grey. The comforting warmth of the voice melting into a terrifying sound of deranged power.

The beautiful light broke suddenly shattering into a thousand pieces, shards raining down onto his awareness in a stinging display. Every piece of strange fragmented light felt like glass piercing skin, and pain mounted higher and higher as more fell and cleaved him apart. He wanted to scream. But could not.

Images soon accompanied the broken splinters of white and silver, memories he realized. Flashes of events, faces, people, things. Things he should know. Things, _people_ he recognized and cared for. Images that tore his mind apart into agonizing disassembled shreds.

He saw an island. A port. Filled with tall ships with cotton white sails. Chocolate skinned natives dotting the harbors and a beautiful woman waiting on the shore.

He saw flashes of gold. Jewels and riches, the light of torches glinting off the precious metals as he climbed and climbed. Voices indistinct raised and jeering in the background.

He saw blue. Miles and miles of unbroken blue. The sun shinning above the water as he, trapped beneath, lost his breath. He felt his lungs burn and felt a strangely familiar urgency to surface. But could not seem to move his limbs.

He saw faces.

A woman, beautiful and regal. Fair chestnut hair and soft pouting pink lips.

He saw an older man. Grey and white dotting his beard as he drank from a flask of liquor.

He saw a figure he vaguely knew. His father. Older, tall with dark curly hair and large eyes. Handsome and strong.

Then he saw a strange man. Long black brown hair peppered with beads and trinkets and a gold toothed grin that made any being melt. That face.

_JACK!_

The images suddenly flashed and melted. Appearing over and over each other, blurring and smearing into strange swirls and shapes. Burning eyes he could not feel and causing pain to swell in places he did not know he had. Nor could he locate. He felt like he was dying all over again. And could do nothing to stop it.

The shards suddenly seemed to blink and flicker out of existence. And he found himself growing dizzy. The grey world seemed to swim, and falter before his nonexistent eyes. Will was drunk on the agonizing pain and dizzy with vertigo. He felt himself falling suddenly. Falling through the grey until it bled into black. He tried to scream again but nothing came out. Suddenly his frail shadow consciousness slammed into what felt like a brick wall and everything went blue. He felt smoke in his lungs and ice cold water all around him.

He was drowning.

He suddenly had a body again. He felt his limbs grow cold and numb by the chilling liquid sucking him down. He felt lungs burn and ache with noxious smoke and air depravation. He could see as salt water stung his eyes.

And he _was_ drowning.

Panic sank in. And he fought. Hard. Swimming and kicking the best he could. Clawing his way to the surface of the deadly ocean, yet seemed to make no progress. A hand, pale in color suddenly grasped his forearm, and he screamed. Loosing what little air he had left, his flesh felt like it was burning, yet the hand did not release. Instead it raised his sinking form dragging him to the surface. His head broke water and Will sucked in a lung full of air. It was then he dazedly noticed his body was significantly different. Smaller. Frailer. And the scene around him was frighteningly familiar. It was the Queen's Bounty. The ship of his nightmares. The ship he had stolen away upon 10 years ago. Crossing from England to the Caribbean. The ship Barbosa had sank trying to find him...

With the help of the strange hand and its owner he managed to weakly scramble atop a floating piece of the doomed ship, panting hard as his head swam. Dark half blinded eyes managed to lock on the face hovering before him. Hues of a dark crimson surround a gentle pale face. A smile gracing beautifully painted lips. "Who are you?..." Young Will breathed, his body shaking from the shock of the explosion and the cold waters. The smile on the beautiful figures features widened and a hand caressed his cheek. "**Shh everything will be alright now child**..." The being whispered in the same soft sweet yet haunting voice. A chill ran down his spine and heavy, smoke clouded eyes drooped.

Lips pressed to his cold wet ear as consciousness again slowly slipped from his icy pale fingers.

"**You are mine now**..."

"**I am coming for you."**

* * *

**To Be Continued...**

**We would like to thank those kind readers who took the time to review. Your words really meant a lot to us. We hope this chapters as well as all those to come continue to intrigue, amuse, and captivate you. Thank you so much for your support. **


	3. Marks of Battle

**Authors note: **This story is a collabortation between two authors. This is our first Pirates of the Caribbean fanfiction as well as the first we had ever written together. This piece was started before DMC was released, so this story has been forced to become somewhat of an AU. Some character's, characterizations, ect may not be exact. And we apologies if that happens. We tried our best. Please note also we tried to incorperate as must accurate Pirate slang and terminology as possible. If you do not understand something please feel free to ask. Currently this is a romance free story. However depending on how it plays out and input from readers that may change in the future. While being free from romance there are still adult images and theme's and we caution readers to heed the ratings. All comments and critisms are very much appreciated. Thank you, and we hope you enjoy it.

**Disclaimer **: We do not claim, claim to own or hold any rights to Pirates of the Caribbean, the characters therein, or anything else affiliated. Those are the sole proptery of Disney, and Disney corperations. We are making no profit from this story. It is simply a piece of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Random names, places, and non-cannon characters as well as the plot and story itself however are our own and we would ask you please do not take them.

**Summary : **There are many powers at work in the world. Many things that can tip the delicate balance and plunge the world into chaos.For a Pirate such annoyances are never considered.But when the balance is broken and the world teeters on the brink, what is a Pirate to do? The winds and tides have changed. Jack & Will find themselves thrown into an olympic sized adventure that threatens the lives of every man at sea. They are left with little choice. Save a soul. Change a future. Or watch the world crumble.

* * *

"Child of the Storm"

_**Chapter Three "Marks of Battle"**_

****

****

Lightning cracked outside the darkened cabin window, illuminating the interior for a mere brilliant moment before dampening again to soft candle light.

The flames flickered in the still air, dancing in soft yellows and oranges across a darkened face, hidden partially by shadows. Jack sat in the cold silence of the room, perched in an ornate chair; chin resting on his bejeweled knuckles as observant eyes remained rooted carefully, studying the motionless form upon the bed. The sound of dripping water was faint to his ears lost somewhere in the back of his consciousness, mixed with the thundering rain outside the large room and creaking of punished wood. His thoughts were however firmly fixed upon the being before him. As they had been for four evenings now. The Pirate had split his attentions between captaining his ship through the endless storm during the dark days and staying watch over his companion at night.

Will had yet to regain true consciousness in the five days since the accident.

He would wake in a fevered delirious state now and again and the surgeon took the opportunity to force small amounts of food, drink and what medications he had down the wounded man. But that was the extent of his progress.

An infection had started to fester around the stitched bullet hole on the second day, yet several treatments of an old witch doctors remedy he had procured from an old_ friend_ and careful persistent cleansing had done wonders to stem it before it progressed into disaster. The young blacksmith seemed on his way to mending but he still did not wake. The fever had broken early that morning, and Jack had been a steady presence at his side since. Patiently waiting for the young man's return to reality.

The wiry pirate shifted, raising a jug of rum, downing a large swig with a satisfied gulp before setting the bottle again atop the table next to him. A candle flickered and sputtered in the corner, extinguishing with a sudden hiss as a leaking board dripped upon the flame with the sway of the sea. Lazy eyes noted the smoke and pungent smell in the suddenly darker space. Glancing again to the still form he moved swaggering in his drunken manner towards the melted taper retrieving his flint stones and sparking the flame back to light with expert ease. The ornaments in his hair swayed and jingled as he moved, the sword at his hip clinking with every motion. The familiar comforting sound of the ever present bangles gave him leave to pause as he passed his navigations desk, eyes watching a phantom memory in a far off way as it surfaced in his cobwebbed mind.

A refined Pirates hand tapped against a board in the wall, moving to the next then the next until he heard the sound he wanted, pushing and the plank gave way. Dirty nails pried at the wooden board, pulling it away from its recess in the wall as the other hand disappeared into the darkened cubby behind it retrieving a velvet bag. Replacing the board as silently as he had removed it, Jack quickly returned to the bedside. This time however languidly perching on the edge of a mattress far too luxurious for a ship, instead of the chair he had previously vacated.

Turning the bag tail end up, he surreptitiously dumped the contents upon his lap, several gold beads, colored trinkets and strange jewels rolling against the roughened fabric clinking against one another as they settled. He had been meaning to give these to the young pirate as soon as the boy had joined his crew that neigh two years ago now. But the time had never seemed right. Not that there ever was a right time for such things. But Jack was a man of strange ways. And he kept to them.

Sparrow remembered how sodden and down trod the boy had been when he came across him in the pirate port of Nassau riddled with sickness all those months ago.

* * *

_The local tavern and hotel of Nassau was a wash and riot of color, sounds and rum. _

_There was a foul stink of sweat, liquor, and sex, with a strong under current of sea water in the air. A scent that clung to most pirates and patrons as they came and went on their path in and out of port. The 'Admirals Daughter' as she had been dubbed was a huge melting pot of strange men, sultry women, and all sorts of liquor and loot. And tonight was no exception. The tavern was positively bursting with ruckus and activity. A small bar brawl raged somewhere near the back of the large vaulted ceiling building, and several scantly clad busty wenches roamed the tavern floor scouring for their next customer. _

_There would indeed be no shortage of amusement this night._

_Jack sauntered his way quite confidently towards the over flowing bar, easily staking a spot next to a voluptuous black haired beauty who he had yet had the pleasure of making acquaintance. Kohl rimmed eyes swayed up and down her curvaceous form and a suave curl turned his dark lips. She was exotic. Oriental, with a mysterious tilt to her darkly painted eyes and lips so full and red it was as if bees had stung them; swollen, plump and tempting. Dropping a coin onto the bar the notorious pirate ordered a drink and whispered soft tantalizing words into her ear and a promise for an evening visit. _

_The Asian vixen giggled and cooed under the charming sway that Jack Sparrow possessed. A pale porcelain hand passed a small chip of jade into the man's grasp, a sort of calling card, before hurrying on her way to her next bedfellow. _

_The pirate grinned, slipping the piece into his pocket and lifted his flask of rum, swallowing a hardy helping before turning. Acutely aware cocoa eyes scanned the room once more, savoring the taste of liquor and smoke upon his tongue. Tonight sadly was not all meant for fun and games. Jack had received word through a recent pillage of a passing ship that a man had been asking for him. A frightening man, with piercing eyes and wild hair. Searching all his known haunts from the Spanish Main to Singapore. While Jack was not a man to give in to worry often, nor fear, he was exceedingly familiar with curiosity. And as the days turned into weeks, curiosity had finally gotten the better of him. _

_Some four weeks after receiving the news he had ordered the Pearl to port in Nassau; the supposed next port of choice for his mystery stalker._

_The message had been cryptic at best. No names were dropped, no distinctions of any kind really. Sparrow really did not expect to spot a face he knew in this ragged crowd aside from his own crew, whom currently dotted the tavern engaged in various acts of piracy and drunkenness. But, he supposed if this man was so intent upon finding him, he would in fact find him. So he left fate to her games. Whisking his mug from the bar Jack proceeded to his usual place, secluded in a back corner. Not quite dark yet not quite light. It was just enough to be seen but not really noticed if you weren't really looking. Lounging back in the rickety wooden chair, heavy boots clunked atop the table, relaxing as he waited and savored his liquor. _

_"Jack Sparrow!... S'been a while love." A heavily accented voice reached his ears. Raising his gaze, dark orbs met the partially painted petite face of a familiar wench. A woman dressed in reds and gold. _

_"Jezabelle, darlin." Jack greeted with a dramatic fondness, wrapping an arm about her waist and with the same motion twirled and pulled her smack dab into his lap. The girl grinned, honey curled locks bouncing with the movements as she delighted in the long missed company. "I have no' seen ye in ages. What's kept you away love?" she purred, running a hand teasingly over the bare flesh of Jack's chest peaking ever so temptingly atop his partially opened shirt. "Ah, s'been a busy year darling. Cursed pirates, undead pigmies, and all the like. Ol' Jack's a right popular fellow with them fanciful types." _

_The young woman laughed and playfully slapped the man's clothed shoulder shaking her head as she leaned close, exposing just a little more of her already amply exposed bosom. "Ye and yer stories Jack." The Pirate captain grinned, a hand swaying flamboyantly before crossing over his heart in a dramatic show. "S'all true darlin'. Every word. On my honor". He smirked. She laughed and shook her head, golden ringlets framing a lovely face. "You 'ave no honor Jack." "Oh! I'm hurt lass! Cut me right to the core, that."_

_"I said leave me be! Let go, or I swear I'll shoot you dead here and now."_

_A startled female patron cried out in surprise as a chair skid across the floor and several flasks shattered with the outcry of an angered male voice. _

_Jack's eyes darted up curiously at the naggingly familiar timbre, scanning the spooked tavern goers for the source. "Come on luv.. Just a little kiss?" An obviously drunk pirate slurred, a meaty grubby hand wrapped about a younger man's forearm as he tried to 'woo' his way into the others pants. The inebriated man was hovering over a seated form, leaning dangerously close to the dark haired lad's face, close enough to smell the rot of his teeth and stink of alcohol and unsavory foods. The pistol in the offended sailor's free hand cocked loudly and raised with a trained flick of a wrist, the muzzle leveled upon the burly beings dirty forehead, as his other hand tightened about his tankard of booze. _

_"I said. Let. Me. Go." _

_Jack's mind was racing behind his eyes as he surveyed the scene._

_The seated man's back was facing him, and from what he could make out of the form it was not that much to look at. He looked half starved, no more then a frail walking skeleton really. His skin was sallow and pale, a distinctly unhealthy sheen marring what must have once been handsome flesh, leech track marks crisscrossing both partially bare arms, and a long dark mane matted and haphazardly tied back with a dirty blue bandana. Jack did not recognize any of what he was seeing. But something in that voice was vaguely familiar to him. "'S'cuse me lovie." The wench was brushed aside with a huff of annoyance on her part, before he made his way swaggering and jingling towards the man and soon to be dead pirate if he wasn't careful. _

_The scrawny man's finger had just started to squeeze the trigger, when Jack interrupted. "I wouldn't waste a shot on that worthless git mate."_

_The frail looking man jumped, nearly dropping the pistol in his startled state before large once bright eyes turned to face the new arrival. _

_"E'llo William."_

_"...Jack...?" The name was breathy and broken sounding as it reached the dreaded pirates ears, and a faint twinge stung what could probably once have been called a heart. Once beautiful and lively eyes were now dull and slightly yellow tinted with sickness and neglect, all distinctions of what was once life and exuberance gone. High cheeks stuck prominently out upon thin filthy features, more then a day's growth dotting a one time proud jaw and chin. The boy was shaking, ill, and quite possibly half dead as he sat a mere ghost of his former self before the standing captain. "This one's mine. Bugger off an' find yer own." Jack warned the hovering braggart, a hand sliding intimidatingly over his own pistol. The drunken man with a snort and dismissive hand tottered off to pester another pretty face. _

_"Jack...?" _

_Stealthily saddened eyes returned to the shocked young man below him, noting the boy was still frozen in mid turn, gun raised and shaking. Reaching Jack gently lowered the pistol to the table, forcibly unwinding the lad's fingers and releasing the tension upon the trigger. Sliding into the bench next to the once quite beautiful man Sparrow eyed him with a confused look swirling in his orbs. "Are you real Jack?..."_

_"Aye love. Real as the day I were birthed. Fancy a demonstration?" The odd pirate quipped with his usual lighthearted air. Any emotions the man was feeling or capable of feeling well hidden behind handsome grins and flashy hands._

_Will seemed just as lost and startled to suddenly be graced with the familiar company as Jack was by his one time friend's appearance. A shaking hand shifted, timidly brushing fingers disbelieving across the other man's wrist and down bejeweled and dirty fingers before shoulders seemed to suddenly drop as if the weight of the world came crashing down all at once upon the young blacksmith. "I can't believe I finally found you." There was a strange flavor to his voice, a smile coloring his words, yet it was not a happy smile. Bordering instead on madness. Jack was at a loss. The last he had heard from the young man he and his lady love were discussing marriage back home in Port Royal. Happy and healthy. How the lad came to be here, so weak, sick and changed, and certainly Elizabeth free was beyond him. "Yer the one's been looking for me then?"_

_William didn't respond immediately, a faint nod his only reply as he swiftly raised his mug of liquor, guzzling down half its contents in one go. Jack raised an eyebrow._

_"What brings ye so far from home then lad? Ye finally come to terms with your deep seeded love fer dear ol' Captain Jack and come to whisk me off me feet? Not an easy task mind ye. I' got me standards an' all. But I love to see ye try." He grinned with a self appreciating air, examining his filthy nails and rings before rubbing them showily across his jacket. He garnered no response. "Or perhaps, did ol' what's her name come to her senses and kick ye out?" Jack quipped with an air of familiar good nature, grasping his own tankard of grog, flagging down the forgotten wench for another round. It took him a moment to notice the pang of loss in the lad's eyes and the sudden stiffness locking his form at the mention of that saucy girl. "...She's gone Jack..." It was no more then a whisper breathed into the flask of drink, darkened eyes glassy with fever fixed on an image burned into his mind from months passed. _

_A sudden coughing fit racked the young man's body, stealing his breath and dusting a salty sheen across his face and neck._

_"What? She run off with that ol' powered wig sea dog then?" _

_"She's gone... Dead." He repeated, shaking his head and swallowing hard. Jack didn't know how to reply._

_Pirates very seldom dealt with heart break. What pain they felt was easily drowned out with liquor and swift visits to the local whore houses. So he acted the only way he knew how. Snatching the bar maids sleeve as she passed by, "Make that a double.." Swallowing a strange lump, Jack cleared his throat an odd look marring his features as the boy suffered another bought of difficult hacking. "What happened lad?" _

_"She.. fell sick not long after we returned to Port Royal.. And.. I not long after her. Surgeon said it was an island infection..." The former blacksmith mumbled, eyes trained on the palm of his hand, eyeing a poorly wrapped bandage where Jack recognized had once been a cut to save his life and end an impossible curse. _Of course.. _He had not thought of that. The two of them were land lubbers. They were not used to nor exposed to the fevers and illnesses of the sea and untamed islands on a regular basis. To one with little immunity an island disease was almost always instantly fatal. "I had some natural resistance to it... The surgeon supposed it was due to my smithing... but Elizabeth... She passed within a week of falling ill." The last was spoken with a chilling detachment, lost in the darkness of drink as Will raised his mug again, draining the last of the harsh liquor. "I couldn't even hold her as she died Jack..." Turner shook his head in memory and the last vestiges of anger and pain, not even blinking as a new mug brimming with grog was placed before him, turning to meet the wiry pirate's darkened eyes. "I couldn't even touch her... I was there... I was right **there**. Right next to her... Yet I couldn't even move. Couldn't just ...reach out my hand, and touch her, and tell her I loved her... All I could do was lie there, and watch her die... Watch her suffer.. And die..."_

_"I'm sorry lad.."_

_Will simply shook his head at the mumbled expression of sympathy. A wasted and perhaps faked gesture. Fingers curled around his mug of liquor, gazing into the amber liquid with a far away look as a weary tremble of fatigue and perhaps something more shook his limbs. _

_"As soon as I could stand on my own, I left... I put a flower, her favorite flower... upon her grave, and I left...I've been jumping ship to ship since... I'm not sure why I came.. What drove me here, to look for you.." The boy seemed confused now, casting a somewhat curious glance towards his companion as Jack sipped his own rum. "Perhaps it was simply the fever... Or the grief..." Will shrugged half heartedly, wiping the pathetically wrapped hand against his forehead, swiping annoyed at the persistent, ever present it seemed, sweat glossing his skin. "I bet ye just missed me irresistible charm." Jack teased, an awkward toothy grin flashing before faltering and slipping away._

_Both men fell silent, a heavy weight to the air about them as both dwelled upon inner thoughts, losing more and more awareness to the accursed rum before them. They remained that way for several moments, each numb to the noise and happenings about them. _

_Sparrow glanced up as another bar fight broke out amongst the tavern folk, several chairs and bottles smashing as two drunken pirates seemed to fight quite vehemently over the same snarky bar maid. "What's it matter what brought ye then?.. All that matters is yer here ay?" He ignored the miniature battle, remembering the jade trinket with a spark of regret. Somehow he highly doubted he would be able to enjoy that gorgeous china dolls attentions this night as he had hoped. The younger man snorted with a faint gesture vaguely resembling a nod, or perhaps a shrug._

_"What are ye planning now boy?.. Where will ye go from here?"_

_Will's brow knit for a moment at the off handed seeming question, eyes glancing from beneath a dark crest of spiked lashes and damp curly locks. "I don't know... I honestly didn't expect to live this long..." A vaguely ironic chuckle escaped before breaking into a violent fit of coughing. A hand clamped over his mouth as the boy near doubled over, something red and sticky splattering his palm as he wheezed. Idly he wiped the smudge against his soiled knickers. Jack tried not to notice._

_"Well then, its settled. Ye'll be comin' with me. And don't think I'll go easy on ye just cause ye fancy me now. I'm flattered and' all, really. But I don' play favorites savvy?" Sparrow announced with an odd sort of triumph, throwing back his head and downing the rest of his grog, before slamming the mug back onto the wobbly wooded table._

_"What?" Will blinked, eyes wide at the unexpected, strange offer shrouded in self boasting, a small miniscule spark of hope returning to his long dead gaze._

_"Aboard the Pearl... Honestly, lad. Ye really can be daft sometimes."_

_"But Jack-"_

_"No, sorry, too late love. Yer already sworn it. Welcome aboard mate."_

_"What? Jack wait!"_

_"Jack!"_

_

* * *

_

It was a dark memory, filled with unusual emotions he didn't like to admit existed. And yet it was tinged with a silver lining like those proverbial clouds Jack kept hearing about.

He remembered the faint familiar spark he had seen take root in the man's glassy eyes that night as he offered him a rightful place in his crew. Though it really was less an offer, and more an order.

Will may have struggled at first, his honest nature warring with the lust for piracy and the open ocean. But of course ultimately the boy was as happy to be here as he was to have the young man, who was so like his father. Even then. Once Will came to terms with his seamen's blood and recovered from his dilapidating illness, the boy indeed grew to become a fine pirate. Just as Sparrow had trusted he would. The best under his charge he dare say, working his way into the top ranks of Jack's crew. He had even managed to make a name for himself in the pirating world surprisingly fast, known now as Honest Will. The name made Jack smile. It was nothing if not true. And Jack had gone so far as to name the boy first mate. Jack valued the lad as a friend, a mate, and a pirate in arms. And in his own way Jack knew the boy would be alright. He knew he was strong, he knew he would recover and their lives of pillaging, plundering and sailing would again return as they had been before the accident.

It was with this knowledge that he felt the time was right to offer the trinkets he cradled in his dirty bejeweled hands.

Dark eyes inspected the contents of his lap, picking over the small and some quite large bobbles before selecting one raising it for closer scrutiny. Yes, it would do nicely. Nodding to himself the captain's gaze turned to the younger man, watching in the low lamp light as his breath escaped parted pale lips, chest rising and falling in time with the rolling sea.

The whelp's appearance hadn't altered all that much since they had first met. Though from that shadow of a man he had picked up those two years ago he was completely different.

Obviously he had finally given into his pirate nature. Hands now bore a few gold and jeweled rings to mark his status, a fine chain about his neck and an earring gracing his left lobe. Perhaps he was a few inches taller, and leaner. The taut muscles he had acquired from his long hours of diligent smithy work eaten away by sickness had melted seamlessly into the lean wiry frame of a gifted pirate. His hair had also certainly grown, now trailing down between his shoulder blades, where it used to just brush passed his shoulders. Oft tied back by a scarf or strap of leather. Even his clothing was freer. The heavy oppressive fabrics of society and propriety forgone, replaced with soft billowing white cotton shirts and nicely cut slacks. Stockings replaced by heavy boots much like Jack's own. The changes in Sparrows mind were certainly for the better.

A smirk faintly tipped the corner of the elder Pirates lips as he returned to reality swaggering his lingering gaze back to the youth's attractive slumbering face.

But no matter how much the boy changed, or stayed the same for that matter, he always seemed a bit of a mystery to Jack. He was vexing to the older man. Even over the years as they became close, there were things he still did not understand about him. Though, truth be told, he was quite certain the reverse was the same.

A bowl of fresh water and wash rag had been left on a table beside the bed, and a hand quickly retrieved the cloth and dampened it. With a gentleness most would not expect from the notorious captain he wiped the beads of moisture from the lads face; the last visible remnants of the fleeing fever. Fingers then dipped in the cool liquid, capturing a lock of curly chocolate slicking the strands with moisture before nimble digits set to work.

Each section of the chosen locks were twisted and braided, the carefully selected beads and charms attached and secured with a deft skill. It was a queer sort of sight. Both beautiful and strange as fingers worked in ways they ought not to. A grown man styling another's hair was certainly not a habit of a good pirate. But this case was exceptional.

The boy stirred as the Pirate continued his work, a deep swallow, then dark cocoa orbs the likes of he had never seen before his meeting of the boy fluttered; struggled for amoment, then lifted.

"...J...Ja..ck...?"

"Shhh, yer throat must be sore lad." The pirate hushed, not pausing in his actions as the young man swallowed, heavy eyes still clouded with sleep and confusion. Though the elder man was quite relieved to see not a single sign of illness in them. " 'Ere" One hand moved then, the other still grasping at the braided section as Will swallowed again, a tongue darting to lick dry lips. Retrieving his forgotten bottle of rum he carefully tipped the rim to the boy, offering a small drink. Will accepted, thankfully at first, before wincing at the familiar burn pulling back. "Jack.. _water_." he groaned, heavy eyes glaring up at the older man so obsessed with his drink.

"What? Rum will cure all what ails ye boy. Tis good fer ye." Jack replied, a mock look of hurt crossing his face before he set the bottle aside, forgoing an argument and grasped the rag as there was no cup present. Dipping it in the water he placed the cloth above the young man's lips squeezing and letting the cold liquid drip into his parched mouth. Will raised an eyebrow but did not object, swallowing the water offered before settling deeper into the pillows. "Any pain lad?" Jack questioned, repeating the action. Dipping the rag and wringing it over the boys mouth lowering it enough for the youth to suck on a damp corner drawing out more refreshing drought.

Pulling back for a moment Will accessed his body and the sensations his brain was sluggish to register. Everything was foggy still, muddled by sleep, pain and a heavy amount of drugs. Not to mention rum he was sure the Captain had forced down him when he was out. Breathing carefully he noted a sharp pain with every breath in his left abdomen, and the tail end of a headache. But aside from that and the disorientation he seemed half alive. "S'not bad... Tired though.." The boy replied lethargically, lazy seeming orbs rolling back to his companions face. "H.. How long?"

"Five days."

Blackened eyes accepted the information with a rumble of his stomach, turning to gaze questioningly at the hands in his hair.

"Where are w...?" the words were interrupted by a faint wince and another swallow prompting the Captain to again offer a drink of the cool liquid. This time after the boy took his fill he wiped the rag over his forehead and down through the strands of hair he was working. "Off the coast of Nassau. I'll be sending the boys ashore when the storm breaks." As if prompted by Jack's words lightning cracked across the sky blinding the wounded blacksmith for a moment, and thunder rolled. Only then did he notice the pelting rain and angry sea rocking the large clipper ship. A minute nod of approval, then his attention was again upon the curious task his Captain was partaking.

"Jack?..."

"Aye?"

"What are you doing?"

"Catchin' fish... Wha's it look like whelp?"

"Like a grown man playing with another grown man's hair?"

Jack snorted grasping another trinket from his lap and slipped it into place. "Tis a mark of a true Pirate lad... There." Finishing the last section he knotted the strands of hair around a gold coin that had once been modified and mounted to be worn as a necklace, examining his handwork with an obvious display of pride. "What?"

"Look. Dis one's Barbossa. This one Port Royal. This the Interceptor. This, Tibs Savvy?... Each trinket marks an escape from death lad. Think of um as battle scars." Kohl lined eyes raised from the glittering beads as he pointed to each in turn to meet the boys in a rare moment of serious contemplation before a dancing smirk filled their depths. The drunk seeming Pirates hands swayed through the air in a flashy display the trinkets and bobbles in his own hair swaying and jingling as he moved.

"Ye didn't think I wore um just to look good did ye?"

"The thought had crossed my mind." Will replied mildly, his eyes instead inspecting the charms woven into his hair. There were nine all together, ten including the gold coin at the bottom of the strand. Three gold, one white faceted charm, a blue, two cocoa, and two odd shaped red beads. Turning his head they rolled and brushed his cheek in a cold caress of smooth precious metals. It was a nice sensation. And honestly they did not look that bad. He noted also however several twisted dreaded braids nestled into the longer of his curly locks. How did Jack manage that? An odd look crossed his face. "And what is the purpose of these I wonder?"

"Oh those? They just look good." Jack grinned. Gold teeth flashing in that strangely attractive way of his.

"Braggart."

"Of course"

Will snorted and smiled softly trying not to laugh however, as his side tightened with the strain. "You had best not be trying to remake me in your image, Jack Sparrow."

"Never! You can't duplicate perfection boy." Jack grinned, leaning back as if to lounge in a chair propping hands behind his head, tipping his hat into his eyes with the same fluid motion, and crossed his ankles.

"_What_ perfection?..." Will mumbled, pushing the precariously perched man from the edge of the mattress, watching amused as his captain warped the fall into a strange graceless swagger to his feet that somehow looked planned. _Only Jack_..

"Open yer eyes whelp its right in front of yer face." A wave of an exaggerated hand and half bow later, the perpetually drunk Pirate practically hovered over the boys body near nose to nose; one of the chains of trinkets in his own hair surreptitiously smacking the lad in the cheek. To Will's credit he managed a surprisingly authentic looking expression of innocence, eyes gazing about what of the room he could see purposefully avoiding Sparrow. "Where? I fail to see it."

There was a sudden knock on the door and Jack straightened, "Whelp..." he mumbled, swallowing his reply instead bidding the person to enter.

"The storms brok'n Cap'n. Shall we head to shore?" Gibbs asked, leaning around the large wooden door, surprised to see the young Turner once again among the living. " 'S good to see ye 'wake lad. Thought ye'd never come back." Will smiled kindly at the older man, used to the lax form of familiarity instead of respect of rank from the other, but did not reply. Jack nodded sauntering from the edge of the bed, the velvet bag and remaining trinkets set upon the table before he moved towards the door. "Aye, send two parties. We need water an' supplies. And surgeon needs 'is tonics. After we're stocked we'll stay a bit. Break from the dour weather and _unpleasant _company." Jack replied, a mock scornful look flitting Will's way who annoyingly just grinned. The Captain retrieved a bottle left by surgeon swirling the dark liquid in the glass before returning his gaze to the older man. "An' have grub and grog brought. We'll be eatin' here tonight."

"Aye sir."

"Handsomely now, Gibbs."

"Aye."

* * *

The sun dusted the golden waves in hues of treasure and blood. A soft lazy wind licking at the crimson colored sails high above head as a single strange man stood perched upon the back parapet of the enormous ship. The last trickles of rain soon fell and dried and the warm dusk scented the air with a pungent fresh fragrance. The sky was clear and colored a beautiful gory red; the end of day nearing swiftly.

Crystal blue eyes examined the far off horizon as the sea broke and split beneath the intimidating ship.

There was a change in the winds.

A taste.

Bitter and foul.

He could feel the grit of foreboding upon his tongue and it made him smile. Destiny was coming.

A looming figure of rather tall stature, the man was silent and chillingly still. Not so much as swaying as the galleon rose and fell with the wake of the waters. He posed as if a statue adorning the magnificent vessel, eyes ever ready and watching. Thoughts danced behind his orbs. Eyes glistening red with the setting sun. Eyes that while beautiful were mad. Sanity long since fleeing the mind sheltered behind the shining windows. Jeweled hands gripped the wooden railing.

_Soon._

_Aye. Soon. _

_Soon it would be time._

The tainted smirk upon once handsome features twisted and curled beneath a dark mustache. "Cap'n, the scuttlebutt in port say she's off coast of Nassau." A terrified seeming man slithered his way next to the imposing figure, eyeing the man with a nervous air. Though pointedly avoiding his face. The captain nodded, raising a fisted hand, glancing at the contents of his palm. "Good. Mark heading for Nassau." His voice was deep. Almost eerily so. Reverberating hauntingly across the wood of his ship like some fantastic entity; sending a chill down the deck hand's back. "Aye sir."

"Weasel... The man what told you. Wha's become of him?" The dark haired man asked, a cloud of malice forming around his body as he turned to face the short mousy being. The pirate swallowed. "Dead sir. Got a knife in him back fer his loose tongue." The wicked grin upon the mad Captain's face grew. "Yer sure he's dead?" The littler man seemed to smile then, if only a little, filthy hands nervously twitching before him. "Aye sir. Him drown in him own blood." "Good. Very good... On yer way." The lesser being nodded at the order and hurried back the way he came. Insane blue's turned back to the macabre sight behind his ship as the sun melted into the ocean, marking the death of day. Everything was hued a bloody crimson. Just like he liked it.

_Soon... _

_I will catch ye..._

_I'm coming for you.._

_

* * *

_

Not long later another knock at the door sounded.

Jack rose from his perch beside the bed, swinging the bi-fold cabin doors dramatically, as always, open, and allowed the crewman in, inspecting the plates over his shoulder. Will could not decide if the familiar action reminded him of a vulture or a mother hen. True that neither image really suited the strange captain. Perhaps that was why it was so comical.

The young blacksmith against the older pirates orders had propped himself up against the head of the bed, a small down pillow over his stomach in an attempt to smother the pain and several others wedged behind his lean form. Keeping him upright. His shirt had been discarded after the incident and another lay on the table waiting for him to don it. Currently however he enjoyed the cool breeze against his naked skin, wafting into the room through the large bay-eqsue windows, his damp locks now dread free and fluttering about his paled face. He did not comment on the quiet exchange of orders and news between the deckhand and his captain, his gaze turning to watch the water and waves. Filtered light flickered across the polished wood faintly, the storm clouds seeming to have faded and evaporated as the moments since his waking passed. The sun set was visible for the first time in almost a week, red and beautiful purples low in the sky. Turner felt calmed and soothed by the lovely sight, the display of colors and cool air leaving him quite content, all worries of injury and ailment momentarily forgotten.

Will had made a habit of watching the sun at the set of day, the breathtaking lights and rainbow of exquisite hues, a wonderful reward for his work. Before Elizabeth had passed, she and he often stole away in the early evenings, to the high hills just outside the main town of Port Royal. Watching the sights together with a wonderful picnic accompaniment. Content to be in one another's presence at such a beautiful moment. Perhaps in someway he was keeping her memory and that tradition alive.

A sad sort of smile of reverie crossed his thin lips a far off pang of loss gripping his heart. The door closed then, followed by the sound of foot steps receding from the quiet room. Returning to himself his chocolate orbs followed the sound, spying the wiry pirate inspecting the evening meal left for them. "Anything eatable?" Will questioned, an amused look replacing the disheartened one as Jack picked at the hastily prepared meal of cheeses, breads, and dried meats.

"Not really"

"Sounds delicious."

Dishing a smaller plate Sparrow handed it to the younger man before Will could even contemplate moving towards the table himself, bejeweled hands then quickly filling two mugs full of grog. The strange pirate all but pounced into the chair positioned next to the bed, feet immediately plopping upon the mattress, no care given as the motion rocked the bed. Will bit his tongue to staunch a wince but made no reply. Accepting the drink he hastily sipped the liquid instead. Looking over his own plate Will's stomach felt like it was doing summersaults in the pit of his belly; half starved. He could not remember the last time he had eaten. True the meal was not a feast, but it was more than he had had in days. Grasping a piece of bread he eagerly bit into the half moist roll, eyes rising to watch the captain.

Jack had one hand waving idly in the air, a large chunk of cheese clutched in his fingers as they swayed as if to music no one else could hear, the soft creaking of his chair meeting Will's ears as he rocked back and forth on its hind legs. "S' not bad I s'pose. Once ye get passed the dry bits... And... the chewy bits.. And the swallowing." He mumbled, inspecting the cheese with a strange distasteful look, an obviously over exaggerated shiver running through his body before grasping his mug and gulping down half the contents in one swig. " 'course the rum makes it consumable."

Will shook his head at the predictable comments, sipping his own watered down grog carefully so as not to aggravate his throat before continuing with his meal. Really the food wasn't all that bad. Jack was just being his overly dramatic usual self "Boozehound." A grin was his only reply.

The sun was all but gone now, and Jack paused his meal to light a few more candles in the room.

Leaning over the bed a flame flickered from his hand to snare the taper positioned upon the wall sconce directly above the younger man's head, bathing the other in soft flickering fragments of yellow and grey. The play of light as he retreated caught his eye as it caressed Will's bare forearm, noticing for the first time in their companionship a small dark mark half hidden in the darkness. The strange writing piqued his interest. He forwent returning to his seat, instead lowering slowly to the bedside eyes never leaving the object of his scrutiny. From what he could see the mark was unlike anything he had ever seen before. And certainly not in any language he recognized. But by god, it was oddly familiar.

"Jack?"

"Ye know, its Captain's prerogative to bestow 'is subordinate 'is first tattoo as a scallywag."

Will's brow furrowed before he noted the man's curious stare, glancing down at the strange black mark himself.

"Where'd you get that lad?"

"This?" Will straightened his arm, setting the meat he had been nibbling down, inspecting the brand himself with an odd chill. The fingers of his other hand reached unconsciously to trace the smooth surface. He felt a strange uneasiness swell in his belly at the discussion of the mark. Flashes of the fragmented dream returning to the forefront of his mind. He could not remember much. Nonetheless he had been effectively unsettled. _Surely it was only a dream... Right?... _"I don't know. I've had it... as long as I can remember... Why?"

"May I see?"

The young pirate blacksmith was confused by the man's curious behavior but did not question, extending his arm palm up towards the other man with a nod after only a small hesitation. Jacks hand curled around his wrist holding the colored flesh up slightly to the light, his own fingers tracing the strange flowing black pattern. The mark was centered directly in the middle of Will's inner forearm, small, perhaps no bigger then the size of a tiny ring. It was as black as pitch. Resembling a tattoo but it was not raised nor scored into the skin as they generally were. Nor was it a brand. It was simply there. As if the young man had been born with it written into his flesh.

"I've ne'er seen anythin' like it b'fore." Jack mumbled, tracing the strange pattern again entranced by the odd mark.

So lost was he in his puzzlement he missed the unsteady intake of breath from the man captured by his touch.

Will was shaking now. But he did not know why. A strange sensation was tingling up his arm from the contact, sending chills down his bare spine. Beads of sweat dotted his upper lip and high cheeks and he felt a strange almost vertigo rise in his stomach. But he did not feel sick. It was instead a weird deja vu sort of dizziness. "Its just a tattoo Jack..." a breathless whisper escaped, his dark cocoa eyes locked upon the man's fingers as they memorized the strange scrawl. A sharp sudden terrifyingly familiar burning sensation scorched his arm surrounding the mark, causing him to jump and yank his hand back, hugging the limb to his waist.

Will nearly doubled over as the jump sent a painful jolt ricocheting up his form blinding him with white hot pain. A faint moan escaped him, teeth clenching against the sensation trying to keep his reactions down, all the while hiding wide shocked eyes under a messy untamed curtain of hair.

"Lad.. Will are ye alright?"

Jack shifted closer, placing a hand against the boy's hunched back, a worried frown marring his hidden brow as he inspected his friend's crumpled body. The younger man concentrated, lowering his breathing, steadying the uneasy rhythm and the pounding in his ears. Trying hard to squash the strange fears, sensations, and worrying flitting through his muddled mind. Swallowing slowly as the pain settled to a bearable ache Will nodded uncurling from his crumbled position, releasing one last long breath before relaxing wearily back against the pile of down feather pillows. "I'm fine." He mumbled, though his arm stayed pressed against his stomach.

The elder pirate eyed him skeptically for a moment but did not push him, nodding in quiet compliance before shifting back to his seat, letting the conversation topic slip away. "Indeed.. Suit yerself." Dark kohl lined eyes returned to his forgotten plate, fingers pushing at the assorted foods before reaching for his mug, swallowing the remaining drink in one hardy gulp. Will also returned to his much needed dinner, timidly nibbling on a piece of cheese, eyes shamefully averted. He hoped the older pirate had not noticed his reaction to the touches. He was confused enough as it was about what had just happened. Concerning Jack would only make matters worse.

"Finish ye'r meal. Ye'll need yer strength back soon a spit."

"What?"

"Weren't ye planning on spending some time in town lad? Maybe find ye some _pleasant _company? I know fer a fact them wenches miss ye." Jack grinned that annoyingly sexual grin of his, eyeing the young man with a knowing look.

"Jack... You know I do not _want_ any 'pleasurable company'." Will insisted, a dark frown marring his features as he turned to gaze out the blackened window. He could not stomach the thought of any woman or man for that matter touching him. No one save Elizabeth. Even now, with her gone, he could not accept the thought of any affection physical or not from another living creature. "William, it's by time ye started moving on boy. 'Olding onto the past like that... t'ain't healthy. And them girl's can do ye wonders on forgettin'"

"Jack please."

"Aye, aye... Think about it lad... Either way. Ye need yer strength. Got some big plans fer ye." The captain all but beamed evilly, eyes locked on the youth's face as he stole a piece of meat devouring it in record time. Will eyed him nervously for a moment before again looking away. Big plans if concocted by Jack usually meant one thing.

Trouble.

Will nodded idly, his gaze still turned and Jack simply shrugged, letting the boy sulk for the time being. Turning his own orbs to his now empty glass with a quiet longing he stood, fetching the bottle of rum upon the table; pouring himself another full glass. Sensing the movement the young pirate took the moment of privacy to glance at his still aching arm while the captain's back was turned. Cocoa eyes widened in surprise to find the darkened mark and surrounding area bright red, inflamed, and irritated. As if infected or burned by flame. Swallowing hard he quickly dipped his fingers in the mug of grog, biting his lip as he lathered the cool liquid across the aching flesh, fighting down a hiss.

He had no idea what was happening.

And it scared him.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**

**Thank you very much to all of our loyal readers. We appreciate all of the helpful and kind reviews we've received so far, and hope to hear more from all of you. We also would like to thank Silver for offering her help with the editing of the story. However the position of beta is currently filled and under Toshi's charge. We apologize for the spelling and grammar errors in the first two chapters as we had not sorted this out yet, and we thank you for your interest. We hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as the last two and will continue to enjoy the chapters to come.**


	4. Bloody Horizon

**Authors note: **We would like to take this time to apologies for the delay in posting the next installment of our little story. Life has taken quite a few interesting and frantic turns for the both of us which resulted in our delay. We would like to express our deep felt sorries at this as well as our thanks for all the support and comments we have received. Hopefully, life willing the next installments should arrive soon. We hope you understand. And thank you all for your time and appreciation. Also please note this chapter is much more graphic then those in the past. If you are squeamish or uncomfortable with strong and violent imagery we advise caution in reading this chapter. Other, Please enjoy.

**Disclaimer **: We do not claim, claim to own or hold any rights to Pirates of the Caribbean, the characters therein, or anything else affiliated. Those are the sole property of Disney, and Disney corporations. We are making no profit from this story. It is simply a piece of fiction for entertainment purposes only. Random names, places, and non-cannon characters as well as the plot and story itself however are our own and we would ask you please do not take them.

**Summary : **There are many powers at work in the world. Many things that can tip the delicate balance and plunge the world into chaos.For a Pirate such annoyances are never considered.But when the balance is broken and the world teeters on the brink, what is a Pirate to do? The winds and tides have changed. Jack & Will find themselves thrown into an olympic sized adventure that threatens the lives of every man at sea. They are left with little choice. Save a soul. Change a future. Or watch the world crumble.

* * *

"Child of the Storm"

**Chapter Four "Bloody Horizon"**

Smoke clung to the air. Biting lungs and stealing breath.

Lulling heavy eyes to droop and wane in the dullness of the thick, misty morn.

The moon had all but set, yet the tavern still rang with a wash and riot of patrons, sounds, smells, and all forms of pirate life.

Women in short gowns exposing too much leg and barely hiding any breast skirted the busy hall, peddling flesh and a night, or day as the case may be, of passion and booze. More then one of the vibrant vixens having pocketed what lively hood their male customers carried as the pirates and seedy sailors slept off the after affects of too much indulgence.

More then one of the unfortunate, or careless however one chose to look at it, men left without a shilling to his name called the _Black Pearl_ home, and Hawk could do little more then tsk at their foolishness.

While a mass of his crewmates drank and fornicated the night away, Jonathan 'Hawk eye' Morgan spent the evening simply relaxing: enjoy conversations with some surprisingly interesting folk and passing time with a hand of Tortuga hold 'em or two. He had been fortunate enough to immerse himself in a cluster of sailors who were more then willing to spend the hours spinning tales, and exchanging tidbits of useful information over tankards of ever flowing grog and a game of cards. He was a keen lad, always had been. And while he was human, and now and again felt the urges and animal nature all men suffered he had a much sharper control of the lusts and desires then most; perhaps due to his long forgotten formal young lord upbringing.

As the darkness gave way to dawn the patrons about the table the young pirate circled seemed the only semi sober beings in the whole of the establishment.

"I swear on me modda's grave. This wench was a tall as any man on me crew an' twice as mad… She killed ten men 'for we even realized we was under attack!" A dark haired man with a shaggy beard and one good eye exclaimed, waving a hand in astounding exaggeration as the other still clung to his grog despite his seeming disinterest in consuming it. "If not for the-" He motioned obscenely to his chest forming the shape of a female breast atop his own. "I woulda sworn she was a bloke!" He laughed rather loudly enjoying the look of disbelief and surprise on the other men's faces.

A salty haired man next to the current story teller shook his head, running dirty fingers through his scruffy beard in an unconscious reaction of contemplation throwing two gold bits into a an already large poker pot.. "Raise, two.. I never met amazony women in the Spanish main… Though my previous cap'n swears he saw sometin similar in the Africa's.. Odd warrior women with bones through there lips an' ears. Down right crazy if ye ask me." He mumbled, flashing a mouth missing one too many teeth as he spoke with an obvious air of disdain, glancing at his hand of cards before nodding sure of his bet.

Hawk shook his head, lowering his hand "Fold," and turned from the conversation catching bits from another, much more interesting, to his right.

"The _Mary_?"

"Aye."

"Yer sure?"

"I swear it was. Red sails what were wet with the blood of those the Cap'n killed… The crew slaughtered the entire town. Royal navy couldn' even chase em off!"

Turning to face the three pirates sitting to his direct left Hawk's brows knit slightly in curiosity, leaning closer to hear more of the conversation. "The Mary?.. _The Bloody Mary_?" He asked, sliding a shilling to the pirate next to him as he received somewhat apprehensive and mistrusting looks. At the bit of offered shine the cold air disappeared and the filthy man leaned closer, speaking in hushed terms.

"Aye, Mad Jack's ship. They blew the port to pieces. Didn' leave no survivors" He whispered, pulling his tankard of rum closer as he pocketed the shilling, eyes darting about as if afraid said infamous Pirate captain would spring from the very woodwork and slit his throat for daring to speak his name. "Which port?" Another graying sea dog asked, yet Hawks eyes remained trained on the main pirate speaking. "Port Royal… They say Mad Jack even killed the Govn'a 'imself. Cut out his tongue cause he wouldn't tell him what 'e wanted ta know. Then gutted 'im atop 'is own brats grave."

"Do you know what they were looking for?" The blond plait haired lookout spoke, shifting in his seat, folding his arms one over the other as he leaned closer.

"Now, I don' think tha's any of yer business boy." A suddenly booming and charmingly malicious voice spoke behind the huddled group of gossiping buccaneers, startling the cluster of patrons. Hawk all but jumped from his seat hands falling to the twin pistols crossed upon his back, tucked in his sash on instinct; taken off guard by the sudden appearance.

A gasp of shock and near awe broke about the table at who in fact had just spoken.

"M.. Mad Jack.." The scruffy pirate Jeebs breathed before suddenly doubling over, receiving a bullet to the face from the

sudden new comer.

Captain Mad Jack Bonney stood proud and dark, smoke curling about his head like an entity of evil, a somewhat less then amused look across his neatly groomed face as the body slumped to the floor; crimson fluids mixing with pink and gray brain matter, decorating the filthy floorboards in a gruesome display of violence.

The hush that had fallen upon the tavern at the sudden appearance crumbled with the single bullet shot.

Windows shattered and doors flew from there hinges. Flames licked at the walls and burst through the floorboards in an all consuming explosion of fury and fear as if the earth herself had rend in two spewing the very flames of Hell beneath the wooded ground. Men, woman, and all manor of beings ran and fought in a flurry of motion scrambling to make it to blocked exits as an acidic smoke tinged with the stench of stinkpots filled the room.

Men, pirates, presumably Mad Jack's crew stood guarding the windows and doors dousing any man or woman who dared to try and clamor passed with liquor or lamp fuel setting several terrified patrons ablaze as others were simply shot or run through; slaughtered like caged animals.

The screams were deafening. The ferocity of pain and anguish alone was nearly enough to make one sick, yet coupled with the rancid stench of burning flesh, hair and rotting meat it was all but unbearable. Hawk yanked the bandanna about his throat up over his mouth, gagging as the flames grew at an alarming rate, hungrily devouring the wood, booze, and oxygen of the once boisterous tavern.

His eyes stung and watered as he ducked and practically crawled to the nearest window choking and coughing as he moved quite literally through a wall of pain and fire; screaming as the burning creature licked and scorched his clothing and flesh alike. A wash of lantern fluid thrown at an unfortunate man to his right splashed across his own ankles and feet setting them instantly alight, and he screamed in pain yet sanity and adrenaline kept him from stopping to douse the flame knowing full well any moment wasted could mean his life.

He passed several bodies as he stumbled and crawled. Several men dead and others dying. Some he even recognized.

Yet, he could spare no hand to help lest he risk loosing his own existence as well. Quelling the vomit threatening to rise up his throat at the charred forms and macabre circus surrounding him, each painful step, fighting the urge to black out took what little strength he had.

The soles of his boots had all but melted by the time he made it to the outer wall his slacks little more then blackened and bloodied underclothes. Every move killed him, each breath, each simple flex of a muscle sending hot rivers of agony through his body, as he struggled spying a singularly guarded window close by. Coughing he pulled out a red hot gun surprised it and its twin had yet to simply explode against his back and without a thought shot the man standing upon the other side of the opening.

Whether he be friend or foe.

Chocking and half blind he climbed atop a teetering barrel, scrambling haphazardly through the portal, crying out in sheer pain as his beaten body slammed into the cold moist earth below. He could scarcely think through the haze of agony, having only enough peace of mind to roll through the mud staunching what biting flames still clung to his clothing.

Voices, raised and angered barely registered in his hazy mind, eyes clenched as he fought the pain and weakness threatening to spill him into oblivion.

Foot falls heavy and frantic neared, and he could not control his voice as a hand landed upon his reddened and aching shoulder crying out in pain and surprise.

Blinking stinging and pain drunk orbs, he squinted as he heard a familiar voice.

Dark chocolate skin, framed by shiny black locks met his glance.

He knew that face..

"A..A..A-An..na" Hawk eye managed to rasp, his vision clearing enough to realize his surroundings. "Come on. We gotta move.." Annamaria ordered grabbing his arm, not caring as he moaned in pain and slung it over her thin shoulders all but hauling his light weight to his unsteady feet. Thank the powers he was one of the smallest Pirates aboard the Pearl. Excluding Marty of course.

"The.. The others?.."

"Forget em.. They're dead. Or soon to be…"

As the obsidian skinned woman drug him away from the city ablaze and towards the old abandoned pier the Pearl had chosen as an inconspicuous harbor, his weak head hung eyes glancing back at the growing inferno that had been the _Admiral's daughter_. A pang stirred in his heart at those he knew and lost in that single building.

His eyes wavered and watered, feeling his stomach turn, sickened and somewhat frightened as he spotted a figure of blood and gold; the form of Mad Jack, still perched in the dead center of the blaze, untouched by the fire like a lone god…

No…

He was no God..

He was a devil.

* * *

The sun was just barely peeking over the soft white capped waves of the ocean, light glittering off the crystalline waters like a large impossibly faceted jewel glinting in a tempting display. Early dawn cries of the gulls filled the still crisp ocean air in the soft song of morning and bay. The sky was painted in bright pinks, oranges and reds. The colors bleeding into one another like a painters' pallet left in the rain, streaking and swirling to create new colors as the sun rose and clouds dotted the natural canvas.

The Black Pearl had nearly been deserted the night before. Neigh all hands hurrying ashore to the sordid despot port that was Nassau; eager for food, drink and companions of the fairer sex. The few unfurled sails flapped softly in the breeze and the rigging and shrouds swayed and snapped as they oft did, wood creaking in the familiar dance of ship and sea as the large galley rocked with the morning tide oblivious to the turmoil's unfolding a mere two miles inland.

Jack sat slumped, perched in his navigations desk chair, booted feet crossed and propped upon the table. His arms laid sprawled over the sides of the chair, hat tipped to cover slumbering kohl smeared eyes, blocking the obnoxious sun. The bottle of rum from the previous night was emptied and on its side atop the table cluttered with several other odds and ends objects including his infamous compass. The room was still and quiet as both he and Will slept on in the first peaceful night either had seen in weeks. The only sound, a soft strange snore erupting from the pirate captain every now and again, followed by muddled drunken muttering. The night had not lasted very long for either pirate. Both men exhausted and comfortable in one another's company, allowing for a brief meal and quick welcomed visit from the sandman.

"…. Touch 'um.. an' I'll shoo' ye….." Jack stirred with a snort then settled again loosing another soft snore, his makeshift bed creaking with the movement.

The silence of morning was disturbed by a shout and foot steps peeling across the deck somewhere beyond the large quarter doors.

The boots thundered their way towards the captain's cabin.

And the bifold doors slammed open.

"Cap'n!!!"

"Parley!" Jack exclaimed in high pitched surprise eyes shooting wide as the loud noises startled him awake. The chair he rested precariously upon tipped and shot backwards, sending the pirate flailing and tumbling heels over head onto the hard plank floor of his cabin with another cry. Landing head first, Jack grumbled, half drunk still and aggravated by the disturbance. "Bugger..." Crawling sluggishly to his knee's he swayed back, tilting dangerously as he blinked trying to focus clouded eyes upon the man in his doorway making several odd faces in the process. Will blinked dumbly himself, a hand raising wearily to rub at blurry eyes as he too was startled from slumber.

"...Jack?... Kursar?.. What's going on?" the younger pirate mumbled, more asleep then his captain at present, and yet somehow more in control of his facilities.

"Cap'n, I... Can I speak with ye? Tis urgent." The short man spoke, nervous eyes large yet shaded as he looked between his two sleepy superiors, wise enough not to set foot into the captains chambers but looking very much like he wanted to high tail it as far away from whatever he had been running from as possible. "What is it?" Jack grumbled slowly staggering to his feet swaying and bumping into the table with a strange noise, knocking the empty bottle in the process. The glass rolled and slipped from the pedestal shattering soundly, causing the disoriented captain and the frightened crewman to jump. "We need to speak with ye... alone... We got a problem." Kursor added nervously, his wide eyes darting from his captain to the first mate, a jittery half ashamed half terrified look in his eyes before he quickly looked away.

As if to punctuate his point a pain filled scream reached the cabin, rattling off the walls like nails down wood. Hurried feet scurried across deck and a familiar female voice barked out angry and rushed orders accentuated by the calls of the ships surgeon, as the sky grew dark with plumes of black death reaching like fingers for the rising red sun.

Will was growing more and more alarmed the more he woke as he watched the two interact; the tidbits of commotion from the main deck he managed to understand sending off major warnings in his fuzzy mind. Unable to really participate in the current goings on seeing as he could scarcely move himself, he felt sickeningly out of control.

It worried him. The older man's seeming nervous fear, the sounds of toil and terror as well as Kursars' need to speak to the captain in private did not sit well. Usually such matters of worrying were shared betwixt the both of them.

Not just one. It bode ill. And he did not like it one bit.

"Speak then and be done with it. I still got half a day's sleep in me.." the drunkard pirate mumbled, waving his hand almost dismissively at the skittish man before bracing it on the table his legs wobbling beneath him. He didn't seem too intent upon waking fully, a lazy yawn breaking his features. Either he did not hear the bustle in his still rather drunken state or he simply did not care. Both being a likely reality. "In private Cap'n...?" Gibbs spoke up suddenly appearing behind Kursar causing the younger man to jump, hands smudged with stains of red and charcoal. Jack raised an eyebrow at the request and appearance, his gaze swaying towards his wounded first mate. "I guess yer not privy to the party mate." He mumbled with a strange half shrugged gesture before swaggering towards the door, swerving a bit more then usual. He pushed passed the two waiting pirates, then the doors swung closed before the wounded youth could utter his dismay at the decision.

A deep frown marred Will's features as the doors sealed him from the worrisome conversation, and strange flurry of noises and actions. He did not like being in the dark; nor left out of matters of importance concerning the ship which he had come to call his home. If something was so bad it terrified both Gibbs and Kursar, it bode ill. If that something also in someway concerned Jack that was even worse. But what could be so bad that he could not be told? Every conclusion his muddled mind came up with was impossible. He for the life of him could not grasp what was so wrong. And he was severely curious to find out what the answers to his questions were.

Shifting William carefully pushed off the borrowed blankets, eyes never once leaving the door. That was his destination. Now all he had to do, was just make it there. Simple. Right?

Weakly he collected himself noting the spotted pains in his body yet deftly ignoring them. Carefully the dark haired man edged his legs over the side of the bed teeth grit as the movements strained his delicately stitched side. Vaguely he had wondered why Jack had not simply ordered the wound cauterized. Perhaps he had been too weak to survive the painful procedure.. Though, Will had detected a strange inclination from the captain never to cauterize one of his many scrapes over the years. He never found out why. Perhaps it was just his twisted sense of humor. Shrugging off the thoughts his hands gripped the bed clothes, taking in a deep breath before literally heaving himself upright.

A gasp escaped as he wavered upon the edge of the mattress, eyes watering and blurring in pain, the waves of burning in his side, head and arm nearly enough to knock him to the floor. Vertigo hit. Sweat peppered his flesh and his stomach churned with sickness, panting breaths escaping as his paled skin turned flushed and sallow with the strain of injury.

He had not felt so sick the night before. _Why was it worse now?_

Swallowing hard he pushed away what distractions he could, settling to simply bite his lip and hang on. Counting to steady himself Will prepared to heave himself to his feet, breathing hard, eyes trained on the door; unwavering.

So consumed was he with his internal struggle he failed to detect the familiar sound of a high pitched keening wail or catch the scent of burning and rotting flesh sifting through the open window. Without warning the wall directly next to his head literally exploded throwing him rather viciously to the floor in a shower of shrapnel, burning air and embers.

The room titled, and all went black.

* * *

Jack had sobered shockingly fast as the heavy news was delivered to him.

A half disgusted, half nervous look flitted across his face as he seemed to almost hope what he heard was not true. "Yer sure?" He questioned, a hopeful awkward grin crossing his face with a sway and wave of his hand before faltering and falling with a swallow and apprehensive appearance. As if to answer the question for the queer captain a cry of pain gurgled across deck echoed by the angered and flustered shouts of several men. The huddled group turned to spy the charred and bloodied form of Hawkeye and a handful of other injured pirates slowly being packed below deck. _Aye.. definitely his handy work…_

"Aye cap'n. There's no mistake." Gibbs spoke in hushed tones. He seemed just as frightened if not more so then the other two men, a hand instinctively clutching his flask of rum as if all the problems of this world could be washed away with a simple swig of the strong drink. "Well then. That makes things a little more...problematic.. Don't it?" Sparrow replied, his dark eccentric eyes fixed in a general no where direction as he seemed lost in a drunken shocked stupor.

"Scurry!!! All hands on deck! Weigh anchor! Move!" He suddenly shouted, disheveled and unsteady, making a swift beeline for the helm. "Cap'n!" Gibbs eyes widened and he jumped as the man called out orders, hurrying up the sterncastle stairs hot on his heels. "There're still men ashore!"

"They're dead." Jack countered, swiftly snatching his compass he could not remember retrieving and flicked it open. "Lower canvas! Full spread of sheets! Prepare to sail!"

"A- Aye!"

The crew that remained aboard, and alive, quickly assembled, scurrying to their respective duties. The Pearl lurched as Jack threw the wheel, hauling the boat hard to larboard as the anchor raised just enough to free her from the bonds of the sea floor, his mind racing behind cocoa eyes.

Within moments the large black sails were loosed and full catching and riding a swift Eastward wind, the scent of something foul trailing in the morning mists behind her.

"We stocked powder and shells aye?" Jack asked over his shoulder as almost an after thought, a startling look upon his face as he met Gibbs' eyes. "Aye..?" The older salt seemed apprehensive in his reply, nervousness building as he wondered what his captain was up to.

"Good."

"Captain?... You can't possibly mean to...?"

Sparrow did not reply, but the look he gave the elder man spoke volumes. "Ye can't be serious?… We can out run her easily!" Gibbs shuddered and uncorked his flask, gulping down half its contents in one swig. "Can't I?" Jack slurred, a frightening look of madness and seriousness crossing the pirates unique features, which in turn led Gibbs to swallow another burning mouthful of rum.

"Heaven help us." the scruffy salt muttered, eyes training on the horizon as the ship cut through the water like a blade.

"Heaven's nothing to do with it."

Fire exploded across the deck and through the ships hull like a drum beat of war as a looming black vessel emerged from the dark smoke and rancid mists skirting the waters behind the fleeing Pearl. Red sails parted the mushroom of dark clouds like life's tonic from a wound, seeming dripping and wet with fresh blood as they swelled and bloated catching the wind and propelling the hundred gun galleon towards the smaller by half ship. Muzzles flashed as two double barreled forward cannons exploded, expelling another round of deadly projectiles one slamming into an unfortunate pirate from behind slicing him literally in two with the sheer force before sending the morbid remains overboard.

The contents of the ship seemed stunned for a mere moment by the ferocious and sudden attack.

"Prepare for battle!! Load all muskets, cannons at the ready!!!" Jack barked out with a voice that cut sharply through the terror startling men into action, not even pausing his rush to glance at the ship he had been dreading meeting for years. Hurling the wheel left to avoid a sudden swell he adjusted the course, letting Gibbs take command of the armament duties.

The stench of old rotting flesh reached his nose in a tell tale sign of an old enemy and a dark look flashed behind his kohl eyes; lost memories and pain panging in the remains of his heart.

"Prepare to return fire. Send her all we got! Grape shot and Langrage!!!!" Jack screamed louder then he could remember ever screaming before planting his boots firm and hard against the half rotten planks below lowering his right hand several pegs down the helm. Gibbs eyes widened as he realized what the crazed Pirate intended to do. "Jack!" Lurching, Sparrow suddenly threw the wheel as hard as he could, spinning the thing with such force it rattled and creaked threatening to brake loose of its shelter as the Pearl vigorously dove into the sea rearing back to the left like an animal ready to strike.

Men slid across deck nearly thrown overboard as the vessel turned, as if possessed, sharply aligning to a T with the ship approaching fast from behind.

"FIRE!!!"

A mere second after the bellow rang across the waters the air exploded with fire and ash once more. Large projectiles of lead and iron sang through the biting air, splintering through wood and flesh, wounding the Bloody Mary in a fierce retaliation. "Reload!" Annamaria barked from below decks shoving a too slow pirate aside and out of her way, snatching a small barrel of powder from its perch and made way for the closest gun ramming a powder pack down the canons throat.

Without a beat the Mary's twin fore guns hissed and shot to life again sending another round tearing through the hull of the Pearl, bulldozing through one of her aft guns rendering the cannon useless and taking down a few men in the process.

"Return fire!!!" Jack cried out, switching his hold as fast as he placed it preparing to once again lurch the proud vessel in a new direction. The order was echoed below decks, and another round blew from the port holes like beasts hungry for carnage; shots of all shapes and sizes zinging across the open ocean with deadly force and accuracy.

Jack struggled with the helm muscling her right again as deep cocoa orbs glanced heavenward, a queer look in his eyes. "A bit ofa storm'd be nice bout now!" He seemed to call out to no one in particular.

As if spurred by the little Sparrows call, the waters grew rough and angry whilst the two vessels battled as titans upon the sea, a trail of debris and unfortunates trailing in their wake. The sky grew dark with ash and soot from guns and the burning isle in the distance, the peaceful shades of morn replaced by the macabre crimson of death and storm. As the pirate galleons raced one after the other the sea grew angry and swelled with retribution, tossing and battering what wood lay left unmarked by the enemies' fire.

The hiss of electricity bit the air and curled mustaches, a flash and boom of thunder and lights rolling through the skies. The clouds clustered and split, spilling a sudden torrent of rain upon the miniature war below.

"Thank ye." Jack spoke returning his gaze once more to the darkening horizon, manhandling the helm hard to port, sending the pearl all but flying over a sudden deep swell her bow practically crashing down into the waves as she teetered and tottered in the throws of the storm.

* * *

A figure dressed in blood and gold stood idly next the helm of the proud black ship, eyes trained upon the fleeing vessel before them; an amused smirk quirking the corner of his lips in a queer manner.

"Sir, alter heading and roll out the 50's?" the current helmsman asked, struggling to maintain a firm grip upon the wheel as it shook and vibrated with the motions of the ocean as she roared. Water and shivers of chaos splashed across deck as cannon fire tore through the port railing sending one man into the rat lines, decapitating him with a gurgled scream and another into the mizzenmast; the sickening snap signaling instant death and a broken spine.

"No, keep on her tail. Return fire." Mad Jack replied with an extremely out of place calm, his voice barely audible over the din of storm and battle. "Aye sir! Return fire!!!" the Bo'sun called, pulling the winch on a poop deck cannon securing it with a trained looping across a belaying pin; locked and loaded should the crazy captain change his mind. The twin massive fore cannons jerked and bucked as another round of huge projectiles fired and hurdled after the Black Pearl, one barely missing snapping her aft mast in two.

The sky darkened and the air fizzled and crackled; an ill omen of bad seas by all accounts.

"Run out the oars. Keep on her!" Mad Jack ordered, examining the heavy black haze above as the rain began to pummel his vessel; eyes narrowing skeptically before returning to their prey up ahead.

The lower hatches of the immense vessel swung open and a mass of long oars extended into the turbulent waters, sweeping and jerking into waves as men toiled in the bowls of the ship struggling to do as ordered while simultaneously trying not to loose a limb from the massive force exerted against the wooden paddles.

The captain of the frightening vessel stayed strangely numb to the chaos about him, detached and focused upon one thing and one thing only. Dark eyes tinted red and ringed in yellow never left the sight of the battered ship ahead, watching and delighting as every chip of wood fell, as every shiver broke free and every gapping maw tore into the once beautiful vessels frame. It was a macabre and fascinating sight of revenge and torture. He could not help the excitement and pleasure that bubbled in his blackened soul at the pain he knew he was causing. His appetite for utter devastation insatiable.

In his mind he did not see a ship, nor a crew. Only a single person

He saw a body, beautiful and lively. Fresh and young.

Each blow from the guns, each explosion and eruption of fire and iron was like a knife upon that body, tearing, cutting, mutilating what was once so gorgeous and pure. Perverting the treasure of one mans soul, twisting it into a painting of pain and destruction.

Just as his own had been….

Dark eyes smiled through the smoke, vicious and mad as his hunger for pain mounted with the waves. His patience some would say was fleeting, and erratic. So long had he waited… And now his prize was so close at hand.

Yet he knew, he had only begun to scratch the surface of inflicted pain.

_Yes… You shall not have it so easy….No… You will watch as all you hold dear crumbles beneath my grasp….. This is only the beginning._

_

* * *

_

"Cap'n, seems we run a foul of a hurricane!!!" Gibbs called as the rivlets of rain thickened, sheets so wide and dense one could scarcely see his own hand before his face, falling to crush the wooden vessels as if they were mere toys. Jacks eyes squinted as canon fire once more rocked his boat, a langrage shot whistling just past his shoulder, one of its two pronged hooks tearing through the flesh and soaked clothe of his sleeve spraying a shower of red across the helm and deck below his boots. Hissing the captain recoiled if only a little refusing to step down, sparring a glance at the damage to the torn jacket. _Bloody hell.._ _Twice in one week_. Lady luck was just not with him this season.

"Return fire! Keep that powder dry!!" Annamaria barked below deck kicking the hulk of a dead pirate aside as she dug through a pile of debris locating another barrels' stock of grape shots. The world inside and out of the wooden ship rocked and nearly turned tospy turvy; a huge gust of punishing wind catching her sails as an enormous swell threw her from the surface and down into a valley between waves. Several lower hatches burst under the sudden pressure and water sprang through the opened port holes washing cargo and sailors about like twigs in a barrel. "Batten down those hatches! Nail 'em shut if need be!!!" The obsidian skinned vixen cried coughing as a large splash of water caught her off guard.

"A little over zealous don' ye think?" Sparrow muttered glancing about the blackened panorama as he struggled to catch his own footing, an odd expression crossing his face as water washed into his eyes streaking kohl down thin cheeks and stung dark orbs.

"Cap'n?!"

"We got no choice but to out sail her!" He replied as the heavy set graying pirate slipped and stumbled his way once more to the strange captains' side. "Cease fire! Secure canons and ready for light running!!" Gibbs called out loudly, translating his captains' words into actions without a thought.

The waves grew as every moment passed; the sea deep and treacherous. Jack could no more see the swells before him, then the stars above. The world was nothing but black and sleet, a howling wind crying in the sailors' ears like a scorned lover as they scurried and struggled against their enemy and the elements.

Scrambling to secure a damp rope about his slim waist whilst keeping a had steadily upon the helm he could not help the shiver as pricks ran up and down his spine and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"All hands secure life lines!!!!"

"Mother Mary of God…" Gibbs breathed in disbelief eyes shot wide and trained upon the stern of the ship. A massive wall of water at least several hundreds of feet high rose and grew behind the vessel separating the two sparring ships by an expanse of unsailable seas. Jacks eyes widened at the sight and his hands tightened upon the wooden pegs of the wheel.

"And pray…" He mumbled whipping his head about and plated his feet, form lashed tight against the wheel as the wall began to crash plummeting with terrifying speed towards the tiny pirate ship.

* * *

**To Be Continued…**

**Thank you very much to all of our loyal readers. We appreciate all of the helpful and kind reviews we've received so far, and hope to hear more from all of you. We apologize for the spelling and grammar errors and hope you understand that we are not professional writers and are likely to make many more in the future. We hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as the last two and will continue to enjoy the chapters to come. Thank you all for sticking with us. We hope you enjoy.**


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